


When In Doubt: Pancakes

by thecunningcock



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Lysaac, wibbly wobly timey wimey fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 14:33:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecunningcock/pseuds/thecunningcock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Isaac and Lydia are sent to the future because of reasons undetermined. But probably because of Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Lydia’s head hurt. It hurt and she wasn’t happy that her alarm was going off. Squinting at her bedside table, she groaned loudly to realize it was 6:00 in the morning. She hadn’t gotten up that early in weeks, and couldn’t remember why she’d set it that early now. She reached out and smacked it off, settling back into her pillow with a sigh.  
  
Someone sighed behind her, and Lydia’s eyes snapped back open, suddenly wide awake. She _definitely_ would have remembered sleeping with someone last night.  
  
Picking at the comforter pulled up to her chin, Lydia very slowly turned over in bed, swallowing nervously as her eyes landed on a mop of brownish-blond hair. He had his back to her, and without even looking she knew neither of them were dressed. Eyes flying up to the ceiling to send up a prayer that he wouldn’t wake up, Lydia very carefully shifted the blankets off of herself, and slid out of bed.  
  
She sighed with relief as her feet touched the floor, managing not to wake her bedmate. Now naked and standing beside her bed, Lydia glanced around herself to try and find something to put on. Something silk and green hanging from the back of the closet caught her attention, and Lydia was halfway across the room and reaching for it for it just in time to realize that she wasn’t in her room.  
  
The robe hung off her shoulders as that information sunk in, heart rate picking up. Not caring that what she was wearing probably didn’t belong to her, Lydia quickly cinched the belt around her waist and spun around, looking for anything familiar to identify her surroundings.  
  
There was nothing.  
  
With a sharp look at the man still asleep, the possibility that she had been drugged flashed across her mind. But she felt fine, other than the ache at her temples and being very naked. Lydia ran her fingers through her hair, already over the drugged scenario, and went back to gauging her surroundings. There was a dresser against the left wall that had picture frames on it. Glancing once last time at the bed to make sure her mystery sleeping companion was in fact - still asleep, Lydia hurried over to the dresser and started opening drawers. Mens and womens clothes were all folded neatly into the bureau, but nothing very distinguishable (totally cute though, and if she ever figured out where she was she was definitely stealing some). With a sigh, Lydia braced her hands against one of the open drawers and finally glanced up at the pictures; her heart stopped.  
  
They were photos of her, her friends - Lydia reached for one as her heart restarted at double time, nothing but heavy thumps against her chest and blood rushing in her ears. She stared at a a picture of herself, a little older maybe, wearing a cap and gown with her arms wrapped around Isaac Lahey of all people. Stiles was making faces at the camera just off to the side, but she could hardly see that. In the photo, Isaac’s hand was hanging off her shoulder, his fingers twined into the ends of her hair, his grin lazy, body language relaxed; and she looked absolutely contente leaning against his chest.  
  
“Would you chill out? Your heart rate is driving me crazy.”  
  
Lydia spun around, heart in her throat and eyes widening. “I... _Isaac?_ ”  
  
He twisted in bed, one arm coming up to rub his eyes sleepily as he peered at her. “Lydia?” he blinked. “ What are you wearing? Are you naked?”  
  
Lydia didn’t even bother to roll her eyes at the very 17-year old boy response, instead she walked toward him, avoiding the way the comforter slid down his naked torso as he sat up to stare. Her knees hit the edge of the bed. “Where are we?”  
  
Isaac cocked his head to the side in confusion, and he looked around them; eyebrows climbing higher and higher on his forehead. “This isn’t my room,” he said dumbly, looking back at her. “Is this your house?”  
  
Lydia shook her head. “I just woke up,” she said, pointing to the other side of the bed.  
  
Isaac followed her gesture, paused, and whipped his head back around. “We slept together?”  
  
She doubted it. “I can’t remember anything.”  
  
Isaac nodded, agreeing, looking at someplace around her thighs as he picked at the edge of the comforter. “Weird,” he muttered. “Really weird.” He paused, chewing on his lip. “I’m gonna call Derek...or Scott, maybe they know what happened.”  
  
Which lead to another problem; Lydia sighed. “I don’t know where my stuff is.” He frowned.  
  
“Little too clean in here for a kidnapping,” he muttered. “Plus, who would strip us and put us into a bed together? What the hell would that accomplish?”  
  
“Confusion and distraction before whoever kidnapped us comes back and murders us,” Lydia suggested sweetly, batting her eyelashes. Isaac cracked a grin.  
  
“Right, always that,” he shook his head, making a move to get out of the bed and stopping. “Uh...turn around?”  
  
Lydia raised an eyebrow. “What? Oh!” promptly turning on her heel, Lydia turned her eyes up to the ceiling as she listened to Isaac climb out of bed and look around for something to wear. Her eyes caught his reflection in the mirror over the bureau she was facing, and tilted her head at the pleasant sight of his bare ass before it was covered up. Isaac wrapped a discarded blanket around his waist, turning around just in time to catch her staring at him through the mirror. He blushed; she grinned.  
  
“Sorry,” she said, not very sorry at all, and turned around to face him. Glancing pointedly down at his attempt at decency, Lydia quirked an eyebrow and cocked her head at him. “Really?”  
  
Isaac lifted an arm in a what-am-I-supposed-to-do gesture, dropping it again with a smack against his thigh and looking over his shoulder. “Should we steal some stuff to wear?”  
  
Lydia shrugged thoughtfully, not having thought of that as an option. She turned back toward the dresser, but before she had taken a step Isaac’s voice stopped her cold. “Wait, what’s that?”  
  
“What’s what?” she asked, heart speeding up. In the mirror, she watched him point at her hand, and the picture frame she was still holding. She didn’t want him to see it, she was fine pretending they had been kidnapped and someone was just playing a joke on them or this was all just a weird dream; if she showed him the picture it would mean something else.  
  
“Lydia, what is that?”  
  
She swallowed, tilting the frame away from his view. “Something I found,” she said carefully. He took a step forward, and she whirled around, eyes wide. “Isaac-”  
  
“Who’s in it? Do we know them?”  
  
She licked her lips, uncertain. “It’s...us.”  
  
He frowned. Hard. “What do you mean ‘us’?” he held out his hand for the frame. “Let me see.”  
  
Lydia made a face. “Maybe we should find clothes first-”  
  
“Lydia.”  
  
She sighed, handing over the frame and crossing her arms over her chest, leaning back on her heels as she waited for shit to hit the fan. She didn’t know Isaac well, but she didn’t think anyone would take something so weird like this with _stride_. He stared at the picture of them together for a full minute, the seconds ticking away as he stared when they _could_ be learning more about their surroundings.  
  
“What the hell is this?” he murmured, head tilting to the side as he tried to take in the picture from a different angle. “Are there more?”  
  
Lydia shrugged. “I just noticed this one,” she gestured over her shoulder. “There are other’s though, but I didn’t look too closely....” she trailed off, unsure about what to say. This was just too-  
  
“So weird,” Isaac said, interrupting her thoughts and tossing the picture frame onto the bed dismissively. “Someone’s doing a lot of work to freak us out.”  
  
Lydia nodded in agreement, feeling like an ass kicking was in order. “I’m gonna check the closet, the dressers got jeans and stuff in it I think.”  
  
“Awesome,” murmured Isaac, sliding past her. She headed straight for the partially opened door near Isaac’s side of the bed, flipping on the light and raising an eyebrow at the cute shoes inside. She grabbed something off a hanger, looking over her shoulder to see Isaac busy staring suspiciously at a pair of boxer briefs; pulling off the robe, she slipped the dress in her hands over her head, surprised that it actually sort of fit her. Lydia brushed her fingers across the short sleeve, liking the color and the cut.  
  
Distracted, Lydia walked out of the closet, looking up in time to watch Isaac pull a t-shirt over his head. “Find something that fits?”  
  
“It all fits,” Isaac answered, turning toward her. He was wearing a pair of dark colored jeans, and she didn’t want to know if he decided to go comando in them or not. He nodded at her, eyes sweeping down her front. “You look pretty.”  
  
“I’m sure that’s not true,” said Lydia dismissively, heart fluttering appreciatively at the compliment anyway, even as she checked herself in the mirror. No make-up, hair slightly tangled on one side. Running her fingers through her hair to try and tame it, Lydia made her way to the bedroom door. “Find anything?”  
  
“Nope,” shrugged Isaac. “Just a bunch of pictures of our friends, one of your parents, I think. And one of my brother.”  
  
Lydia shook her head, avoiding the dresser; she’d been freaked out enough for one morning, she didn’t need a repeat. “Let’s get out of here.”  
  
“With you on that.”  
  
Lydia grinned at him, turning the doorknob and stepping out into the hallway, just as another door across from theirs opened. Lydia paused, feeling Isaac stop behind her, as a redheaded girl in batman pj pants and a tanktop stepped out. She looked up, and Lydia felt her breath catch as the bluest eyes she had ever seen stared back at her. She looked like she was about fourteen.  
  
“Morning,” she grumbled, rubbing her eyes with a wide yawn and headed down the hall, opening another door and closing it with a snap. A second later they heard the sound of a shower turning on, and Lydia whirled to face Isaac, eyes wide.  
  
“What the holy hell was that?”  
  
Isaac was staring open mouthed at the place the redhead had disappeared through, not breathing. Lydia’s face scrunched up, whacking him hard in the chest. “Hey! Pay attention.”  
  
Isaac rubbed his chest, glaring at her. “Ow.”  
  
Lydia sneered, but didn’t say anything, turning on her heel. With one worried glance toward the bathroom, she crossed the hall quickly and opened the door the younger girl had come out of. Peaking in, Lydia saw all the normal teenage girl things; nothing suspicious at all. Turning back to Isaac, she made a face. “I don’t get it.”  
  
He shook his head, breezing past her and heading down the hall. “I’m gonna look for a phone.”  
  
“Well...wait for me!” He did, turning back to stare impatiently at her until she caught up, then took the lead. The hallway opened up to a wide balcony with stairs leading down to the ground floor, another set of doors down a corridor on the other side. Isaac glanced at her, Lydia shrugged.  
  
“Is there anyone else here?” she asked worriedly, glancing over her shoulder. Isaac paused, frowning to listen for any signs of life - and Lydia mentally smacked herself because she should have suggested that before they started wandering around. He shook his head.  
  
“Just one other, down that way,” he gestured down the hall they hadn’t gone down, and Isaac looked at her expectantly, like he was waiting for her to tell him what to do.  
  
“We should just get out of here as fast as we can,” said Lydia, starting down the stairs as she spoke. There were picture frames on the wall and she glanced at one on her way down; she nearly tripped in shock, saved only by the banister and Isaac’s sudden appearance at her elbow to keep her standing.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
“That, um,” Lydia felt lightheaded, leaning back against Isaac for support as she gestured wordlessly to the picture on the wall. It was them - a little older looking, with two kids standing next to them; the girl from the hallway with Isaac’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, and a boy that looked about eight with brownish blond hair and hazel eyes standing next to Lydia.  
  
Isaac’s hand slid down her arm, resting against her hip in shock as he stared over her shoulder. She could feel his heart pounding against her back. “Who the hell-?”  
  
He was interrupted by a door banging open, and the kid from the photo in front of them came barrelling down the hall pulling a shirt over his head. He ran into the wall next to the stairs, flashing them a grin before flying past them with a “Gotta pee!” shouted at them over his shoulder. The pair stared after him with open mouths, until Lydia couldn’t take it anymore and whirled on Isaac.  
  
“WHAT IS GOING ON?” she asked shrilly, eyes bugging out as she panicked. Isaac shook his head, looking over his shoulder as the shower stopped. He grabbed her hand and dragged her down the rest of the steps, pulling her into what turned out to be the dining room. There were school books stacked on it, backpacks on the ground and a laptop sitting open on a chair. The kitchen was sitting open to their left, clean and waiting to be used. Lydia jerked her hand out of Isaac's, looking around herself wildly to try and find something to help her figure out what was going on.  
  
Of course, she sort of knew what was happening. Had ever since she found that picture in their room. Because it was their room; because she and Isaac lived in this house together. She swallowed hard, pressing her hands to her mouth.  
  
“We’re in the future.”


	2. Chapter 2

“This isn’t happening.”

Shaking her head, Lydia stared at the addresses of the many envelopes in her hands. Isaac was pacing behind her, muttering to himself; she felt...oddly calm.

Isaac paused, leaning close to hiss in her ear. “We are _not_ in the future.”

Lydia waved a letter under his nose, raising her eyebrows like ‘why would I make this up?’. “Lydia Lahey,” he read, taking the envelope from her to read and reread repeatedly. “This isn’t really happening.” he muttered, dropping it to the ground and turning away to continue pacing. “It’s a joke.”

“Seems too elaborate for a prank,” said Lydia, tossing the letters she was holding onto the counter, folding her arms across her chest. He snarled behind her, and Lydia turned her head to watch him glare at her, his eyes flashing yellow-gold.

“ _Why do you get to be so calm about this?_ ”

Lydia sighed, rubbing her hand wearily against her cheek. “One of us has to be.”

“Oh that’s perfect,” growled Isaac; he looked behind her, grimaced and looked back. "So, Lydia. Welcome to the fucking future where we’re _married_ and have fucking _kids_."

“ _Shhh!_ ” hissed Lydia, grabbing his arm and dragging him into the back of the kitchen, glancing at said kids sitting at the table in the living room. She grimaced, leaning closer as she made sure they weren’t paying attention. “Keep your voice down. And for the record I was perfectly capable of figuring that out on my own, thank you."

Isaac groaned, running a hand through his hair, not even trying to keep calm. "God, it’s like a bad remake of _Back to the Future._ "

Lydia pressed her lips together and nodded, actually glad she didn’t faint at that first family photo she picked up. "Yup. With werewolves instead of hoverboards. Lucky us."

Isaac looked at her, speechless for a moment. His nose scrunched up for a second, looking back at the kids as he forced his expression to smooth out. "Do you…think it would be suspicious if we asked them their names?"

Lydia’s head whipped up, her mouth dropping open and her eyebrow raising in disbelief. “ _Seriously?_ ”

"Well they’re just _staring at us_ , Lydia! What are we supposed to do?"

"Well…do you know how to make pancakes?"

Isaac paused for a moment, and Lydia watched him consider it for a moment before he shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Fine,” said Lydia, holding her hands up and shaking her head, not really caring if he could cook or not. “You make them breakfast and I’ll...I don’t know, snoop around or something.”

Isaac nodded along with her plan, tongue in his cheek. “Kay,” he agreed, looking around himself for a moment to get his bearings together before he spotted the fridge. His eyebrows quirked down and he headed for it, pulling something off it and catching the magnet before it fell to the ground. He played with it in one hand absently as he read over the piece of paper in his hand; looking up at Lydia, he nodded her over. “Found something.”

Lydia spared a quick glance to the kids, and seeing that they’d gone back to their homework (why were they doing homework at 7 in the morning? She wasn’t that strict about grades was she?) hurried over to Isaac’s side, bracing on hand on his stomach to keep from knocking them both into the fridge. He turned his head down to look at her, angling the paper toward her. “Which one do you think is Ronnie?”

That was a good question; Ronnie Lahey was typed out in the upper right hand corner of the paper, and next to it was a bright red ‘A’ along with some very complimentary notes about whatever the paper was about. Lydia felt herself grinning despite the situation. “Our babies are beautiful _and_ smart.”

“So not on topic,” mumbled Isaac, but when she looked up he was grinning too. Lydia’s eyes drifted back to the paper, wanting to read it and be all proud of her imaginary kid, but Isaac’s hand drew her attention instead, and she looked down to see him still fiddling with that magnet from the fridge.

“Le me see that,” she whispered, taking his wrist. He let her hold his hand, showing her the golf ball sized object in his hand. It was wood and looked handmade, shaped like a dog (most likely a wolf) with ‘ERIC’ carved into the side. Lydia felt her throat tighten. “We named our son after Erica.”

She heard Isaac suck in a hard, pained breath, burning a hole into the side of her face with his eyes. “No we didn’t.”

“And Ronnie...” Lydia continued, like he hadn’t interrupted. “Veronica, Vernon...God, Isaac-”

“Stop,” he hissed, pressing the magnet to her stomach until she took it and pulling away like it physically hurt to touch her. “It wasn’t us,” he insisted, shaking his head. “So just stop.”

He sounded so angry and hurt that she dropped it, biting the inside of her cheek because her instincts told her to keep prying, to get him to understand what she’d figured out; Erica and Boyd were dead, and they’d honored them by naming their children after them. It also begged the question, were any more of their friends dead?

“How old do you think some of these drawings are?” asked Lydia, changing the subject and drawing Isaac’s attention away from his dead pack mates. She felt his mood lighten a little as he followed her suggestion, the corners of his lips twitching at the sight of finger paintings and stick figure wolves.

“They’re not that bad,” he said with a small laugh, reaching up to trace the form of a wolf under a full moon. “Think they know about us?”

Lydia pursed her lips to keep from laughing and waved the little carved wolf at him. “I think that’s a safe bet.”

Isaac paled suddenly, jerked his head over one shoulder and shooting the kids a wary look before taking Lydia’s arm and dragging her further away. “You think they inherited it?”

Lydia stared up at him with a wide, baffled expression in her eyes. “Inherited what?”

“The-” he stopped himself, glancing back again. Lydia leaned forward to follow his gaze, waving a little at the boy staring openly at them (Eric, she reminded herself). Isaac leaned into her, lowering his head to mutter against her ear. “The werewolf thing.” Lydia frowned, and he didn’t move away; instead he shifted closer to her, his hip brushing against hers. “Derek never talked about what would happen if we...you know, had kids. What if I sort of...passed it on to them?”

“ _You_ haven’t done anything,” Lydia hissed back (“Yet,” muttered Isaac, staring hard at her left ear and not making eye contact.), elbowing him gently in the ribs to get him to back off. “And wouldn’t you be able to tell if they were?”

Isaac shrugged, sighing heavily and turning his eyes up to the ceiling. “Derek never gave us the birds and bees of werewolf reproduction.”

Lydia tried really hard not to grin, because that seemed like such a Derek thing to avoid doing. She shook off her amusement quickly, swatting at his side. “Go make pancakes.”

“Right. Pancakes.” Ronnie’s head shot up, her pretty blue eyes widening hopefully.

“Pancakes?”

Eric’s head swiveled around. “Dad’s making pancakes?”

Isaac froze as both sets of food happy eyes focused on him, and Lydia pressed her lips together, staring up at her not-husband knowingly. “Those pancakes better be outstanding.”

His barely concealed wince sent Lydia into a peal of laughter, and she practically skipped away from him so he wouldn’t drag her into his cooking failure waiting to happen. She felt his gaze the on the back of her head follow her out of the kitchen, but once she crossed the threshold she realized she was alone; her only companion in this world was Isaac now, and that hit home more than any picture had.

But Lydia didn’t retreat back, instead she kept moving forward, toward the table her maybe-children were sitting at, and slid into a chair across from them - as far as possible. Placing her hands on the table, she looked away before they could make eye contact, staring at the decor of the house she could see until the sound of Isaac making breakfast drew her attention. She watched his back as he moved around the stove, chewing on her lip thoughtfully. She’d never said more than two sentences to the guy, and they weren’t even friends - friends of friends, they hung out with the same people but never with each other - so how did they end up married?

She was spared from thinking about that too hard by the outcome of said marriage staring holes into her. Lydia looked across the table, heart pounding in her ears, and quirked her lips in attempt at a smile. “So...” she began, tapping her fingers against the table to distract herself from the possibility of saying something wrong and ruining these two kids lives. “Finish your homework?”

Eric nodded. Veronica didn’t move a muscle, staring back defiantly. Internally, Lydia groaned. Of course she would make a kid exactly like herself, god she didn’t have the patience to deal with a moody pre-teen.

The smell of warm syrup made her nose twitch, and Lydia looked back toward the kitchen to see Isaac scratching the back of his head as he flipped fluffy dollar sized pancakes onto a dinner plate next to the stove. She frowned thoughtfully, and looked to the more...amiable of her ‘children’. “Anything exciting happening at school?”

“I’ve got a sub,” said Eric immediately, grinning brightly. Lydia was reminded of Isaac immediately, listening to her son (so weird to think about, considering these two children she didn’t even know as her kids) chatter about fourth grade and soccer practice after school. Lydia’s gaze wavered to Veronica as he went on, listening with half an ear; the pretty redheaded girl obviously took more after Isaac - except for the hair - tall and lean, blue eyes and sharp cheekbones.

Eric stopped talking as Isaac finally walked in with breakfast, setting it on the table and backing away slowly, like this was a hostage situation or something. Lydia chewed her lip, taking the distraction to slip away from the table and follow Isaac back into the kitchen. He looked at her expectantly.

“You hear all that?” she asked softly. He nodded.

“Not much we can go off of though,” he murmured, lifting one shoulder. “We’ll probably have better luck just snooping around.”

“Yeah, or wait until someone we know shows up-”

Lydia was cut off by the sound of the front door swinging open, and they both turned to watch (of all people) Stiles swagger into their house. He saddled up to the table, beaming at the pair of kids who didn’t even turn their heads to acknowledge him.

“Hey hey! Uncle Stiles is here!” neither kid looked impressed; Eric rolled his eyes up to the ceiling where they stayed as he slowly chewed his food. Veronica just looked bored. Stiles’ arms fell back to his sides. “Oh c’mon!”

Lydia bit back a snicker, feeling tension in her chest uncoil as her friend walked it. He was probably one of their best bets to get some information about their situation. “Hey, Stiles.”

He nodded over at them, shooting the kids a mock-glare as he walked around the table and toward the kitchen; leaning his elbows on the counter, he leaned forward, grinning wickedly. “So how’s life?” he asked. “Having fun yet?”

Lydia and Isaac both froze, Lydia’s eyes narrowing slowly while Isaac swung his battered covered spatula threateningly at Stiles. “You did this?”

The thought was unbelievable. Of all the people on their short list who could do something like pull them into the future, Stiles wasn’t on it. His eyes widened at the cooking utensil Isaac was using as a weapon, leaning slightly to the side to try and put some distance between them.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Isaac snarled, but Lydia put her hand on his wrist to still him (slightly surprised when calmed down enough to put the spatula down); cocking her head at Stiles, her voice clipped, she pinned him with a look. “What are you doing here?” it wasn’t exactly a question.

His gulp was audible. “I....come over every morning?” he said, like he wasn’t sure. Isaac glanced at her, but she didn’t budge, still staring at Stiles expectantly. “Um,” he shifted uncomfortably, leaning forward to whisper. “Is this about the other day? I swear I meant to call you, and I was gonna them back at a perfectly reasonable hour; I mean you yelled at me enough last night, and they had a blast-”

“Wha-? Now what are you talking about?”interrupted Isaac before Lydia had a chance to be more scary. Stiles’ lips turned downward in a half-shrug, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

“Taking your kids to SixFlags? You really didn’t have to come get us, all wolfed out...”

Lydia rolled her eyes, turning her back on Stiles and flicking her eyes up at Isaac as he followed her movement. “That was wasted,” she muttered. He quirked his eyebrows in agreement.

“Idiot doesn’t know what happened,” Isaac sighed, folding his arms across his chest. “We’re gonna have to find someone who does.”

“Definitely not Stiles,” muttered Lydia, glancing back at her slightly older looking, probably not at all more matured friend-type. He was looking from one of them to the other in bewilderment. Lydia looked back up at Isaac. “Regroup?”

“I made pancakes,” he said, flashing her a grin. “You’re turn.”

Lydia’s nose scrunched up. “What am I supposed to do? Drive them to school?”

“Probably, it starts in like twenty minutes,” Isaac and Lydia snapped their head around to glare at Stiles, whose hands shot up in defense. “Sorry; eavesdropping.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Right. ”with one last look at Isaac, she turned on her heel and walked out of the kitchen, clapping her hands together in an awkward attempt to get the attention of their...children. “Get your shit together, we leave in five.”

Isaac shook his head, watching her continue out of the room (presumably to find her purse...or an actual car); he caught Stiles grinning stupidly at him, and frowned. “What?”

“You’re cute.”

“‘Scuse me?”

“You and Lydia,” Stile leaned his chin into his palm. “You guys keep surprising me; it’s so cute.”

He was gonna puke. “That’s nice,” he murmured awkwardly, looking away, tossing the spatula into the sink just to have something to do. Stiles sighed in an overly dramatic sort of way, batting his eyelashes up at him, and Isaac had the sinking suspicion that he was fucking around. He thumped his shorter now-older friend in the forehead. “Idiot.”

“It’s just the truth, Lahey.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t you have something better to do?”

This time his sigh was genuine and the nauseated scrunch of his nose looked involuntary. “Yup. I don’t care how you spin it, Sherrifing is hard. Don’t know how my dad did it for so long.”

“Can you use ‘sherrif’ as a verb?” wondered Isaac out loud, frowning prettily before the meaning of Stiles’ words sunk in. He tried his best not to look too floored by the news, clearing his throat as he choked on his air supply. “Yeah, you should go to work.”

And an important concept: what the hell did he do for a living? He was obviously over 18, did he inherit the cemetery from his dad? Had he gone to college? Lydia must have, maybe before he knocked her up; he couldn’t see her settling down with anyone (let alone him) unless she was forced to compromise herself. He hoped he didn’t make her stay.

Stiles was already turning away, thankfully not witnessing Isaac’s internal meltdown. Isaac pressed his palms flat against the countertop,locking his elbows and dropping his head between his arms. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to compose himself; the sense of being watched made him look over, staring blankly at the redheaded girl standing next to him. Bright blue eyes, his eyes, blinked at him curiously, setting the empty plate in her hands on the counter next to his.

“Thanks for breakfast, Daddy.”

Isaac swallowed hard, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden. She was beautiful, it made his heart ache knowing that she was his. Unable to help himself, Isaac reached out, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Go...learn stuff,” he said lamely, pulling his hand away quickly. Veronica shrugged, unphased, and bounded out of the kitchen, whacking her little brother across the back of the head without pause. “Don’t hit your brother.”

“Yeah, don’t don’t be such a bitch,” Eric reiterated, reaching out to tug hard on the back of Veronica’s shirt. She smacked his hand away, and before he could retaliate Stiles intercepted, pulling Eric out of his chair and throwing him over his shoulder.

“Alright you brats, that’s enough,” he said boisterously, poking Veronica in the back of the knee with his foot. “You heard your mom, go get your shit before she decides to leave without you again.”

Isaac chuckled to himself, totally able to see Lydia doing that to make a point. Veronica slunk off without another word, and Stiles carried a wildly giggling Eric out of the dining room and up the stairs just in time for Lydia to walk back in. She was digging through a purse over her shoulder, pausing when she felt Isaac’s eyes on her; he didn’t know how a girl like that could end up with someone like him.

“Find anything interesting?” asked Isaac, pushing away from the countertop and rounding it, heading straight for her. She looked up when he stopped in front of her, pulling out a phone from her purse and showing him the screen.

“Only reason I found it was because an alarm was going off, apparently I have to be at the courthouse in twenty minutes.”

Isaac laughed, taking her phone to try and look through it. “Are you a lawyer or something?” Lydia shrugged.

“Or something,” she muttered, glancing over her shoulder. “Where’s Stiles?”

“Upstairs - hey do you have any idea what I do?” asked Isaac, his eyes flying up to meet hers. Lydia blinked at him, unmoving, and slowly shook her head no. “Oh.”

“Don’t worry about it yet,” she said softly, touching his arm. She leaned closer to him, palm flattening against his bicep. “We...we’re gonna be okay, right?”

Isaac stared at her, feeling his heart pick up. He wasn’t sure if there was anything he could say to make this situation okay. He wanted to lie to her, to tell her that they would get through this and get back home and pretend this had never happened, but he couldn’t. “I don’t think so, Lydia.”

She pulled away sharply, like he’d slapped her, eyes widening as she took a step back. He could hear her heart pounding in her chest, but he couldn’t even feel badly about it as the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs interrupted them. Lydia turned away from him, staring hard at the ground. “Is um,” Lydia cleared her throat, her voice off. “Are you guys ready to go?”

“I can take ‘em to school,” offered Stiles. “You needed to meet your mom at her office, right? That will thing?”

“Right,” said Lydia with an uncomfortable laugh. “I did, I did have to do that,” she glanced over at Isaac. “So...bye.”

“Yup, see ya later.”

There was a weird moment, the two kids looking between Lydia and Isaac curiously while they wouldn’t make eye contact. Veronica adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, frowning. “What’s going on?”

“N-Nothing,” said Lydia quickly, shaking her head vigorously. “I-I just totally forgot about that...that thing I have to do, and-and Isaac- I mean your dad- he’s got...that...other thing,” Lydia was staring at him so hard Isaac thought she might blow a blood vessel. Isaac made a face, shaking his head, no idea where she was going with her thought.

Eric sighed, head falling back in exasperation. “Something’s wrong,” he sing-songed.

“Just go to school,” Lydia snapped, spinning on her heel and walking off without a word. Veronica stared after her, eyes wide and confused, and Eric looked down at his shoes. Isaac shifted on his feet uncomfortably, unsure what to say, before just following her without a word.

He found her in the living room, arms crossed tightly over her chest as she paced in front of the couch. Her head shot up when he walked in, mouth opening and closing silently; she shook her head, unable to speak, and turned away from him to continue pacing.

“Jesus, Lydia-”

“I know!” she snapped, throwing one hand up in the air. She whirled on him, chewing on her lower lip in frustration. “It’s your fault.”

Isaac raised his eyebrows. “ _My_ fault?” she waved him off almost violently, spinning away again and shoving her hand into her hair.

“You said we wouldn’t be okay- I mean, who _says_ something like that?”

Isaac reached for her, but she smacked his hand away before he could touch her. “You have _got_ to chill out.”

“I know,” huffed Lydia, breathing hard as she pushed her hair out of her face. He reached for her again, and this time she let him pull her into his chest, dropping her head against his shoulder. “They totally know something’s up.”

Isaac nodded in agreement, getting a little distracted by the smell of her hair. He heard the front door open and shut, finally relaxing now that they were alone. “They looked upset.”

Lydia pulled away, looking over his shoulder briefly before frowning back up at him. “Why?”

Isaac shrugged. “I don’t know,” he laughed once, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I didn’t really have the best role model when it came to parents, who knows what we did wrong.”

“Yeah, me neither,” mumbled Lydia. She snorted. “When I started middle school my parents started their divorce. I was like background noise to them; I don’t think they even noticed when I went to school in the morning.”

Isaac groaned suddenly. “Oh god, we probably make a point to tell ‘em we love them.”

Lydia’s closed her eyes, feeling sick. She had never seen herself with kids, she didn’t want to end up like her parents - too busy fighting with her spouse to pay attention to her child - but Isaac was in the same boat as her; he didn’t want to end up like his dad. They would have done every damn thing they could have to show their kids that they loved them. “Can...can we fix it? Are they gone yet - can we stop them?” Lydia wasn’t thinking clearly, all she knew was that she didn’t want to completely fuck up her first chance at being a mom.

Isaac nodded, grabbing her hand and before she knew it he was dragging her out of the house. He seemed as eager as she was to make everything right, because he let go of her hand to shout at Stiles just as he was opening the door to the car. Lydia raised her eyebrows at the Sheriff's vehicle, but didn’t ask any questions about it (she’d save those for later). Stiles’ head popped back up, eyebrows shooting up.

“Yeah?”

“Tell ‘em to get out,” said Isaac, but the back door was already opening, Eric climbing out of the car and rushing out to meet them. He collided into Isaac, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“You forgot something,” he said, his voice muffled by Isaac’s shirt. Lydia watched him hesitate for a split second, his arms hovering above his son before wrapping around him tightly. Veronica looked less sure, lingering by the open car and staring at them, hurt in her eyes. It broke Lydia’s heart - and she didn’t want to know why.

“C’mere sweetheart,” she said, moving past Isaac and reaching for the girl with eyes like Isaac. She wrapped one arm around her shoulder, pulling her daughter into a tight hug. Veronica stayed unmoving for a minute, before she caved and hugged back. Lydia smiled, heart pounding. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Mama.”


	3. Chapter 3

Lydia pressed her forehead against the steering wheel, parked in the driveway her future self lived in; she had met her mother at the courthouse on time, like she was supposed to. She hadn’t been prepared to see her mother looking so sick; skin cancer, nothing they could do about it. She wanted Lydia to meet with her lawyer to go over the final details of her will. It was surreal to think that she had the same relationship with her mother as she did in high school. They had parted with short words, promise of dinner one night as a family; Lydia doubted it would happen. Her hands were gripping the wheel on either side of her head, trying to resist the urge to thump her head against the leather. At least one good thing had come out of her little trip to visit her mom: she knew the date.

July 3rd, 2034, she was 38 years old. It made her feel ill to think about, so she didn’t whenever possible; she’d managed to figure out her cellphone, and found recent pictures of herself with Allison; they were standing with their daughters, Allison’s girl looking just a few years younger than Veronica and exactly like her father. At least she still had Allison.

Lifting her head, Lydia stared through the red haze of hair in eyes at the house in front of her. She wanted to go home; oh, definitely not this home, she wanted to go back, where everything made sense and she wasn’t married to Isaac. They were lucky, and she knew they were lucky, that Stiles hadn’t questioned their affection for each other. But if they were in this situation for much longer she wasn’t sure they could avoid it for long.

Closing her eyes, Lydia steeled herself, grabbing her purse off the passengers seat and pulling her keys out of the ignition. The front door was open, and she was grateful for it (she had a lot of keys on her and didn’t know which one went to the front door; and like, what did she need twelve different keys for anyway?), tossing her purse to the ground carelessly as she listened for Isaac. Frowning when she didn’t hear any signs of movement, Lydia opened her mouth to call for him, hoping something hadn’t happened while she was gone.

She hadn’t ever really considered that this could be some kind of trap.

Adrenaline spiking just enough to get her feet moving, Lydia was about to climb the stairs to the first floor landing when she finally caught the sound of a television playing. She followed the noise, taking care not to make any noise just in case this _was_ a trap, and it lead her into the living room she had stormed into that morning. She got a better look at it now, like looking at a display out of an Ikea magazine, open and airy with a comfy looking window seat and bay windows that opened up into the backyard. Isaac was sitting on the back of the couch facing the tv, his bare feet on the cushion as he watched whatever was playing. He glanced up at her when she walked in, folding her arms under her chest loosely as she turned toward the screen. She was surprised to see Isaac’s face staring blankly back.

“Stiles,” explained Isaac, gesturing to the screen with the remote. “Apparently he got a camera from his dad when he graduated college and decided to document _everything_.”

“He give you these?” asked Lydia, shifting on her feet as she watched Isaac in camera shake his head at Stiles filming.

“Nah, found ‘em.”

_“Get out or I will kick your ass, Stilenski.”_

“I just wanna fix the zoom, it’s freaking out on me.”

“This one just started,” said Isaac, nodding toward the coffee table in front of the couch where there were a few other home DVDs sitting. He grinned over at her. “Saw your college graduation.”

 _“Stiles, please go.”_ Lydia looked back up at the video, hearing her voice come through the speakers. Stiles made some shushing sounds and the camera zoomed out, revealing Isaac sitting in a hospital room with his feet up on a bed. It panned left, and a very pregnant version of herself stared back. Lydia felt Isaac straighten next to her, and tried to keep her eyes focused on the tv. Pregnant!Lydia flipped off the camera with one hand, wincing as she pressed the other hand to her belly. It wasn’t sitting well with Lydia at all.

“This is freaky,” she muttered, watching Isaac on camera stand up and try to pry the camera out of Stiles’ hands.

_“Don’t, don’t, you’ll break it with your crazy werewolf powers.”_

_“I will break your face if you don’t get the hell out.”_

_“But...I wanna see the baby....”_

_“There isn’t a baby to see yet!”_ Lydia heard herself sound so offended, and couldn’t help but laugh; she sunk into the couch beside Isaac’s legs, never taking her eyes away from the future in front of her. The pregnant version of herself sat up, pushing sweat slick hair out of her face. _“I-Isaac.”_

“Uh oh, I think it’s about to get graphic,” laughed Isaac, bouncing into the seat next to her. He placed a hand against his cheek, shaking his head. “I don’t know if I can watch this.”

“You’re telling me.”

Isaac winced, watching himself shove Stiles into the door where Melissa McCall was standing, staring at the camera with a baffled expression. _“Stiles?”_

 _“Stiles get out!”_ Lydia shouted from off screen, her voice tight, like her teeth were clenched. Melissa shoved a finger into the camera.

_“OUT.”_

_“But I-”_

Lydia breathed a sigh of relief as Melissa shoved him outside, the video going upside down briefly as Stiles fumbled with the camera in his hands to keep himself from stumbling. When he righted himself again, Scott and Allison were in the shot, both of them looking eager, while Derek hovered in the background like he’d just sucked on a lemon.

_“Well?”_

_“Kicked me out.”_

“Oh thank god, I was really uncomfortable watching that,” said Lydia, running a hand through her hair as the DVD feed went black. Isaac turned his head toward her to answer, when the video turned back on. He frowned, closing his mouth to watch Peter Hale wave at them on screen.

 _“Hi Lydia, you just had a baby,”_ he said, twisting the camera around to show them the perfectly adorable image of their future selves passed out in the same hospital bed, Isaac with his mouth hanging slightly open as he slept against the backboard, Lydia curled against his chest. The camera turned back to Peter, and he grinned, though it didn’t meet his eyes. _“Congratulations. And Isaac, I suppose. Aren’t you two precious. And what an opportunity this presents me with.”_

“What is he doing?” Lydia mumbled under her breath, not trusting Peter Hale. Her heart thudded against her chest nervously, even if he was just on screen, his face unsettled her. She shifted closer to Isaac almost unconsciously, and felt his arm fall across her shoulders in a show of support.

 _“You two are never gonna watch this,”_ he was saying, propping his elbow on the armrest and leaning his chin against his hand. _“I know, because you told me. Because you’ve already seen it. Surprise! You told me you took a trip to the future. No use beating around the bush about it. No, I don’t know why you’re there or who sent you, and if you guys figured it out you never told me. Just that you’re there, and you’re watching it now.”_

Isaac was pointing at the tv, his mouth hanging open in disgust and horror. “Peter _fucking_ Hale knows?”

“I don’t want to watch this anymore,” said Lydia quietly, shaking her head. “Turn it off.” But Peter was still talking. Lydia’s nostrils flared, reaching across Isaac for the remote. “Turn it _off_.”

 _“Apparently I’m dead in the future.”_ Lydia froze halfway into Isaac’s lap, not able to force herself to look back at the screen. Isaac’s hand settled against the small of her back, handing over the remote wordlessly as he watched. _“Shocker. Anyway, I guess that’s why you told me, not that I get why. Didn’t you ever see Back to the Future? The crazy guy’s never supposed to know he’s gonna die, he always tries to change it-”_

Lydia pressed the power button, cutting off Peter’s monologue and shutting down the DVD player. They sat in silence, Lydia slowly moving out of Isaac’s lap, staring down at the remote in her hands. Isaac turned his eyes onto her, and she felt the holes he was burning into the side of her face. “He better still be dead,” she muttered, standing quickly and dropping the remote on the couch behind her.

Isaac cleared his throat, and Lydia watched as he struggled with the uncomfortable situation he was in. He lifted a hand in an attempt at casualness, staring up at her with sympathy in his eyes. “Do you...There are photo albums too.”

Photos. She nodded slowly. She could do photos.

.

Baby photos, graduation photos, an entire album dedicated to one massive party that took place in the Hale house sometime around 2014; stupid pictures of Stiles photobombing, candids taken by their friends, trips to the zoo with their kids covered in ice cream, and every first moment imaginable.

“Think we’re happy?” asked Lydia softly, her back against the couch and her legs stretched out in front of her, crossed at the ankles. Isaac looked up from the box of photos he was trying to sort through, his eyes wide and expressive, though she didn’t know what he was looking at her like that for.

“Sure,” he said carefully, turning the photo in his hand around for her to see. They were in halloween costumes, drunk by the look of it, and even though Veronica’s squishy toddler face was taking up the majority of the image, she could see herself looking at Isaac fondly. “I don’t take pictures with just anyone.”

Lydia’s lip twitched, reaching for the picture. Her fingers brushed against his and she pulled away quickly, trying not to look bothered. If Isaac noticed he didn’t say anything, but Lydia felt his gaze linger on her face for a while after she’d looked down. “What?”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” asked Isaac quietly. Lydia glanced up at him, staring under her eyebrows wordlessly. Isaac didn’t shift under her stare, his expression serious. “About what Peter did to you, I mean.”

“No,” she answered, almost before he stopped talking, looking down at the photo in her hands again and trying to ignore him. He didn’t take his eyes of her, that damn pity in his eyes making her tear up. She didn’t want to talk about it, she was fine. She hated Peter Hale and she was fine with it.

“I asked you out, you know,” said Isaac conversationally, changing the subject, but Lydia could hear that he was going to make a point that tied back into Peter, and so when she looked up her jaw was set and there was a warning in her eyes for him to drop whatever it was he thought she needed to hear. He ignored it, instead waiting for her to answer.

“I don’t recall,” Lydia bit out. She got asked out a lot, it was a thing.

Isaac nodded understandingly. “Right, you’re hot,” Lydia frowned. “Fucking brilliant,” she frowned less. “But now you’re messed up, and the only way we would have ended up together is if you trusted me.”

Lydia blinked at him, and it dawned on her. “You had to trust me too.” Isaac shrugged. “You’re dad-”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he countered, tone surprisingly light. Lydia felt herself smile despite the stupid conversation they were NOT having.

“So just to be clear,” reiterated Lydia. “We’re not talking about it.”

Isaac shook his head. “Nope.”

She laughed, it wasn’t funny that she didn’t trust people and it wasn’t funny that he didn’t either, but they were in the same boat. Out of everyone she could have fallen in love with and married, Isaac would have been last on her list. Hell, he wouldn’t have even _been_ on her list. “I give up,” she said exasperatedly, dropping her head back against the couch cushion and staring up at the ceiling, a smile playing around her lips. “Kiss me.”

Isaac’s head snapped around. “‘Scuse me?”

“We need the practice,” she answered with a shrug. Turning toward him, Lydia propped her arm under her head, tossing the photo she was holding back into the pile sitting at Isaac’s knees. “The first time we kiss can’t be in front of those kids, they’d know something was up.”

“Or our friends,” agreed Isaac. He chewed on his lip, inner turmoil waging behind his insanely blue eyes. Lydia waited, patiently, wondering if he would go for it. “Alright.”

Lydia sat up, a little giddy for no reason. It wasn’t like she liked him, it was an experiment; plus he was cute and what could kissing him hurt? Isaac on the other hand, fiddled with his hands nervously. She almost forgot he used to have a crush on her, maybe that explained the nerves, maybe it was something else. Lydia reached for his arm, tugging him off the floor and toward her. Demanding, in control, a little more than bossy on a good day - that was who she was, and she watched some of the tension in Isaac’s shoulder ease when she did, so maybe he had a thing for it.

He raised his hand to her face and hesitated, Lydia watching him to see what he would do first. Fingers settled in her hair at the base of her neck, thumb against her pulse point. His gaze was on her lips, and she licked them out of impulse, invitingly.

It wasn’t a kiss out of love, or impulse, or comfort, or any of the kisses Lydia’s had over the years. It was...different. No sparks or pounding heart, just a soft touch of his lips pressing against hers; Isaac pulled away, hand pulling away from her hair, staring down at her and the intensity in his eyes _did_ make her blood heat. Before she could open her mouth and suggest they try again he leaned back into her, hand threading back into her hair and kissing her deeply. Lydia’s toes curled, arching into Isaac’s mouth and pressing the tips of her fingers against the center of his chest. What was that John Green quote? Slowly and then all at once? ‘Cause that’s how Isaac kissed.

Lydia slid her hands onto his face, pulling him close for a moment and pushing him back, following him without breaking their kiss until she was climbing into his lap; she wanted leverage, and to see where he put his hands. She nipped at his bottom lip happily when she felt his palms slid up the back of her thighs, curling one of her hands into his hair.

“Practice, right?” asked Isaac breathlessly between breaks for air, one of his hands catching against the hem of her dress as he moved it higher. Lydia grinned into his mouth. She may have been thirty-something in this future, but she was comfortable being a horny teenager now, and she wasn’t gonna pass up a hot guy beneath her who kissed like he did.

Isaac pulled away slightly, looking away, and Lydia watch a frown flash across his face just before she pulled him back to her and kissed him senseless. Probably shoulda let him take a moment, Lydia would think to herself a few seconds later, after an ear splitting shriek cut through the silence in the house. Isaac jerked away with a grunt, squeezing his eyes shut as he winced away from the noise. Lydia snapped her head around, eyes narrowed; her face went slack when she recognized the person standing in the doorway, looking horrified.

_“Veronica.”_

The pretty redhead flinched at the use of her full name, (and Lydia made a mental note not to call her that again) her cheeks tinted red from embarrassment as she covered her eyes with both hands. A little dramatic, Lydia thought, but then again, they were supposed to be her parents. Oh shit.

Eyes widening, Lydia’s head whipped around toward Isaac. He was very carefully not making eye contact with anyone, and he had good reason. Batting his hand away from her ass, Lydia stumbled to her feet, straightening out her skirt while Isaac raised one knee and propped his elbow on it, remaining on the floor. Scratching the corner of her eye innocently, Lydia cleared her throat.

“What are you doing home?”

Ronnie kicked at the ground, her arms falling to her sides. “Half day.”

“Half day?” repeated Lydia, raising an eyebrow. Ronnie nodded. “Coulda called us to pick you up.”

A shrug. “Gotta ride home.”

Isaac’s nostrils flared and he climbed to his feet smoothly, standing at Lydia’s shoulder with an odd look in his eyes that Lydia couldn’t decipher. “From?” Lydia’s eyebrows rose at the surprisingly curt tone in his voice; he had obviously already developed some parental feelings for their anachronous children, and it showed. Ronnie’s head shot up, coming to attention under her father’s eyes.

“Just a friend.”

Lydia’s lip twitched. “A _boy_ friend?”

She blushed beet red. “Just a friend,” Ronnie repeated, her voice mumbled and embarrassed. Lydia felt giddy again, but for a completely different reason. Practically skipping away from Isaac’s side, she wrapped a comforting arm around her daughter’s shoulders and tucked her hair behind her ear affectionately. Girl talk she could do.

“ _We_ are going upstairs to talk about this boy,” said Lydia, shooting Isaac a look when she felt him step forward. “Dads aren’t allowed.”

“Lydia-”

“Daddy’s not gonna bother us, sweetheart. Now, every detail. What’s his name, is he cute?”

Steering her lightheaded looking-about-ready-to-pass-out child away from Isaac’s eye twitch, Lydia tried to feel weird about calling Isaac ‘dad’ or the pet name she seemed to have picked up for Veronica, but nothing came; and she wasn’t sure if that scared her or not.


	4. Chapter 4

Isaac waited a whole hour before he even _tried_ going up to eavesdrop on Lydia and Ronnie; he would have just used his werewolf powers, but apparently his future self was considerate and had every room in the house soundproofed. He was a little wary about hanging out in front of his daughter’s room, raising and lowering his arm repeatedly until he finally just gave up trying to knock and slid to the floor across from the door to stare at it. That’s where Eric found him, most likely having walked home, judging by his slightly flushed cheeks. Isaac nodded to him, not bothering to get up.

“How was school?”

Eric shrugged, sliding his backpack off his shoulder and walking over, sitting down hard next to Isaac. “It was ok.”

Something dawned on him suddenly; Lydia had mentioned that it was the beginning of July, so what the hell were the kids doing in school? He didn’t think for a second that it was summer school, they seemed too smart for that; he was hesitant to ask, seeing as how he was their parent and should know that shit. Still, it nagged at the back of his mind.

Eric’s head lifted, looking from his sister’s closed door and up at Isaac, his brows furrowed curiously and the corners of his lips turned upward. “What are you doing?”

Isaac sighed, sinking back against the wall and propping his knee up. “Some guy drove your sister home.”

Eric raised both his eyebrows, mouth falling open. “Nuh-uh.”

“Lydia’s talking to her,” mumbled Isaac, eyes narrowing on the door. He felt the boy next to him frown, and glanced at him, realizing his mistake. He amended quickly with, “Your mom.”

Eric nodded, mouth still hanging open a little bit. “You couldn’t smell who it was?”

Isaac sighed internally, a little put off that his kid knew about the werewolf thing. He wondered how they found out, if they looked at him differently now. He shook his head. “Didn’t recognize it.” He stilled suddenly, hearing the tell-tale sign of a heartbeat picking up out of anxiety; casting a sideways look at Eric, Isaac narrowed his eyes. “You know something.”

“No,” said Eric, too quickly to not be lying, and Isaac’s heart swelled for some reason. Kid couldn’t lie, it was cute.

“ _Eric_ ,” he said warningly, and if Isaac knew his middle name he’d use it too. His cheeks turned pink, but he shook his head defiantly, not budging.

“I know nothing.” Isaac almost cracked a smile; he’d been a little brother once too. And there was only one way his brother had ever been able to get anything out of him.

His hand shot out lightning fast, fingers digging into Eric’s sides, grinning at the shriek of laughter he pulled from his son. Eric writhed, ending up half sprawled across Isaac’s lap giggling breathlessly when the door suddenly swung open, revealing a quizzical looking Lydia. She raised an eyebrow, and Isaac grinned up at her, stilling his hands and letting Eric catch his breath.

“All done?”

Ronnie appeared at Lydia’s shoulder, looking nervous at the sight of Isaac. Isaac grinned, waving at her from the floor. Eric held up his hands innocently. “I swear I didn’t tell.”

Ronnie groaned loudly, retreating back into her room; Isaac heard her fall face first into her bed, smothering a snicker as he pulled Eric and himself to their feet, keeping his hands on the boys shoulders to prevent escape. He grinned across at Lydia. “Learn anything new?”

She rolled her eyes, stepping out of their daughters room and shutting the door behind her. She opened her mouth to say something and stopped, eyeing Eric suspiciously. “Don’t you have homework to do?”

He groaned, loudly, and shuffled off down the hall toward his room. Isaac watched her watch him go, and not until his bedroom door shut did she pounce on him, grabbing his wrist and dragging him into the bedroom they had woken up in hurriedly, shutting the door quickly behind her. Isaac supposed it was _their_ room, technically; it felt a little weird to be standing in it though.

Lydia whirled around to face him, her face panicked. “Did you know that there’s supposed to be a Bar-B-Que tomorrow in our backyard?”

Isaac blinked. “A Bar-B-Que?”

Lydia nodded with a jerk of her head. “Yeah, apparently we do it every year for the Fourth of July.”

Head head tilted to the side a little. “It’s the fourth of July?” Strange how that kind of slipped his mind. “So everyone’s gonna be here...at once.”

Lydia pursed her lips, nodding again. “Yup,” she inhaled deeply. “Tomorrow.”

Isaac opened his mouth to try and reassure her that they’d be okay this time, that they’d get through it fine and no one would know, but he was interrupted by a loud beep from the other side of the room. They both turned, Isaac’s eyes picking up the blink of an LED light blinking red. It was a phone, matched the one Lydia showed him earlier in the day. He headed for it immediately, not looking back to check if Lydia was following.

The background screen was him and the redhead, their hair wet and cheeks red, the lake on the Hale property set behind them. Isaac ignored it, checking what was obviously his phone, and raising both eyebrows at what he found. “Shit, I have 26 missed texts from Scott.”

“In a _row?_ ”

Isaac glanced at her, feeling her lean around his arm to try and get a better look at his phone. He grinned at the top of her head. “Think he’d be gullible enough to get some information from?”

Lydia shook her head with a smirk, wrapping her hand around his to try and angel the screen toward her to get a better look at it, her other arm sliding underneath his to scroll through the messages. “Most of these are just emoticons...”

“Oh, that one’s about tomorrow,” said Isaac, ignoring the way her hair smelled and trying not to remember that just a couple hours ago she was in his lap and they were making out. Lydia huffed, rolling her eyes and reading the message out loud.

“‘Stealing your grill, can’t stop me. Feeding an army.’ Happy winky face,” drawled Lydia, frowning cutely at the phone for a moment before releasing it with a nod. “Yup, he’s an idiot.”

“Feeding an army?” repeated Isaac, ignoring her and going back to the message. “How many damn people are coming to this thing?”

Lydia shrugged. “It is the fourth of July. I’m sure the whole pack is around, plus a couple more people, and kids.”

Isaac raised an eyebrow, not looking up. “Kids?”

“Allison and Jackson have a daughter.”

This time he did look up, slowly, his expression open and a little sorry. Lydia shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, and he felt guilty for feeling sorry for her. His eyes darted up and down her anxiously. “You ok?”

For Lydia in the future it was like 15 years later, she was probably way over Jackson; but the Lydia in front of him now was only 17 and a half, and Jackson had only been gone a few months. The information had to have stung. She made a show of shrugging under his eyes, face twisting into an indifferent expression.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel,” she admitted. “Her name’s Emily, she’s eleven.”

“Can’t hate an eleven year old,” Isaac pointed out gently, and Lydia rolled her eyes.

“I don’t hate her,” she said, shooting him a look. Sighing, she sat down on the edge of the bed next to them, staring at her shoes. “We’re gonna need to do some serious bullshitting when everyone gets here.”

Isaac raised his phone. “I can always call Scott, tell him what’s goin’ on.”

Lydia chewed her lip, weighing the idea. “It’s Monday,” she said carefully. “So far the only real thing we learned today is that Peter’s dead.”

Isaac ducked his head, catching her eye. “Lydia, do you want me to call Scott?” he asked softly. He debated some physical contact, his fingers twitching to brush the hair out of her face. She looked so lost and he wished he could fix it, but it wasn’t going to be as easy as a few words; they were in some serious shit.

Lydia turned her head up, staring him dead on, and nodded. “Yeah, call Scott.”

Isaac straightened, already trying to figure out how to dial Scott’s number, fumbling slightly when the call started before he’d gotten the hang of what he was doing. He pressed the receiver to his ear just in time to hear Scott’s over enthusiastic hello on the other end.

_“Hey! You guys heading over soon?”_

“I was- what?” Isaac paused, glancing at Lydia who stared back unknowingly. “Heading over....?”

His eyes widened a fraction as Scott started back up. _“Yeah, pre-fourth party; one-on-one water balloon fights to preempt the big game tomorrow, Derek decided to try grilling again - and after last year with the eyebrow thing, Stiles is definitely taping it - we’ve got enough beer to sink a ship, and finally the coup de grâce - fireworks at midnight!”_

“What?” whispered Lydia, shaking her head as she watched Isaac’s unblinking face. Isaac’s mouth was hanging open as he listened to Scott talk, holding up a hand for Lydia to wait.

“Sure, what time does Derek burn off his eyebrows?”

_“Eh, you’ve got a couple hours. What time were you thinking of heading over?”_

“I’ll talk with Lydia, see when she wants to leave.”

_“Alright man, see you at the Hales!”_

“Right,” sighed Isaac, listening to the sharp silence in his phone as the call ended. “The...Hales.”

Lydia waited, watching as he lowered his phone from his ear, weighing it one hand as he tried to sort through his feelings. Maybe they’d have a chance to talk to Scott tonight; hopefully find some time without everyone around to try and figure out what was going on.

“Well?”

Isaac slid his tongue across his molars, trying to think of the best way to word their new situation. Lydia quirked an eyebrow, starting to look impatient. “What time is it?”

Her second eyebrow rose, joining the first in bewilderment. She twisted around, toward the side of the bed she had woken up on to catch the clock face on the side-table. “Almost 3, why?”

Isaac gestured to his phone. “That was Scott-”

“ _Obviously._ ”

“We have to go to a pre-fourth party in,” he checked his phone. “Almost three hours.”

“ _Isaac!_ ”

“Sorry, sorry,” backtracked Isaac, touching her shoulder for a second to try and calm her down, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “He was so excited, I couldn’t say no-”

“We had a whole day to try and figure out basic information about our lives, like what we do for a living or our _kids_ middle names! You can’t just...just...”

“I’m sorry,” begged Isaac, crouching down in front of her, curling his hands around the back of her knees without thinking about it. She stared down at him, her eyes shining a little. Isaac shifted forward, taking his hand off her leg and pushing her hair behind her ear. “But babe, you’re kinda freaking out about this.”

Lydia took a deep breath, nodding in agreement. She seemed to be doing that a lot today, freaking out about stuff he said. His fingers tightened around her calf muscle, free hand falling to her shoulder. “We’ll talk to Scott, figure out how to get through the night without screwing up. Don’t freak out.”

“Don’t freak out,” repeated Lydia. She fell silent, staring down at him; her lips parted slightly, one corner of her mouth tilting up. “You called me ‘babe’.”

Isaac blinked. “Uh...”

“No,” said Lydia suddenly, sitting up with a soft smile. “No...it’s good.” His hand slid off her shoulder, looking stunned; Lydia shoved his shoulder lightly. “Keep calling me that.”

Isaac’s expression darkened a little, running his tongue over his bottom lip; suddenly very aware of how close they were, and how it had felt to have her pressed against him. He swallowed, remembering how she tasted; his senses picked up the sound of her heart pounding in her chest, smelling her blood rise.

Lydia felt herself lean forward, reaching out to cup his chin in her hand and lifted it up. She smirked. “It sells the façade.”

Oh, low blow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to write them interacting with the rest of the gang, but it just didn't come out this time. Next time though, I sweeeeaaaar.


	5. Chapter 5

Lydia was tearing through their closet on her hands and knees, muttering to herself darkly while Isaac sat on the edge of the bed and watched her; every now and then going back to his phone to read some of the texts in his inbox to try and learn something new. It was like they kept their life under lock and key, or like...they were deliberately being fucked with.

“Oh!” Isaac looked up at Lydia’s sudden shout, eyebrows quirking downward as she sat back on her heels holding a lanyard with a plastic id attached. She fumbled with it, flipping it over in her hands and turning it rightside up to read. “Biohazard symbol,” she said under her breath, flipping it around again. “Definitely a sensor pass, maybe to get into quarantine areas?” she looked up at Isaac, and he had to adjust his hearing to keep from going deaf as her voice rose. She waved the badge at him. “I think I’m a chemist,” she said at half speed, almost curiously; Isaac nodded for her to continue. “There’s this government building just outside of Beacon Hills that researches stuff like genetic manipulation and chemical compounds, not to mention that I’ve always loved chemistry and physics so it’s not totally out of left field that I would go into something like that,” babbled Lydia, mostly talking to herself as she looked back down at her id card.

Isaac nodded along, looking back down at his phone while she bit her lip. “Hope I’m not fired for ditching work...”

“You didn’t,” said Isaac with surprise, blinking at the history of texts he’d gotten from Lydia. Amongst all the ‘I love you’s and ‘Hey can you pick up some milk? We’re also out of chocolate syrup’ and a slew of inappropriate texts that he was definitely reading later was something time stamped the 30th of June. Lydia’s green eyes were unwavering as she waited for him to elaborate. “You took off work for 17 days,” he looked up at her. “That’s _really_ specific.”

“How do you know that?” asked Lydia, frowning as she climbed to her feet and walked over to him. Isaac scrolled back up their conversation in his phone, ignoring Lydia as she leaned over him to stare upside down at the screen, her hair brushing across the side of his face.

“Blah blah blah, something about Ronnie wanting a cat...here, you said ‘Oh by the way I got time off for July’,” Isaac read, fingers shaking as read and reread a conversation that didn’t make sense to him. “And I asked how long, you said 17 days...and then everything just stops,” he looked up, face blank and serious. “Gotta feeling we knew this was gonna happen?”

“Makes sense,” said Lydia, propping her hands on her hips and leaning back. “We did tell Peter he was gonna die, maybe we planned all this knowing we would be brought here.”

“Think we’d make it a little easier to figure things out,” muttered Isaac grumply, shutting off his phone and tossing onto the bed behind him with a sigh. Lydia rolled her eyes in silent agreement just as someone knocked on their bedroom door. Isaac rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Come in.”

Eric poked his head around the door, grinning sheepishly at his parents. “Finished my homework.”

Lydia raised an eyebrow. “Already?”

He shrugged. “It’s only Monday,” he mumbled defensively. Isaac nudged her gently in the shin, catching her eye and raising his eyebrows, silently telling her to leave him alone. Lydia shot him a look, raising her eyebrow like ‘why should that make a difference?’

“It’s also a _holiday_ ,” said Isaac, nudging her again. She settled, but only just, and gave Eric a pensive look.

“I’ll look at it later,” she said, and the way Eric’s shoulder relaxed made Isaac grin, reaching out to place his hands on her waist. The gesture startled her, but she tried not to let it show; she was sure he could hear her heart pounding in her chest. She nodded to the eight-year-old, a smile ghosting around her lips. “We’re going to Derek’s, go get ready.”

Eric perked up immediately. “Pre-Fourth party?”

Isaac grip on her waist tightened slightly, and she was hyper aware of the eight year old still in the room. Lydia shooed him, smiling outright. “ _Go_. And be prepared to kick some ass.”

Eric practically scrambled out of the doorway, and Lydia felt Isaac shaking his head after him. Lips parting as he tilted his head back to look at her. “He hasn’t even reached double digits yet, do you really think you should use the word ‘ass’ around him?”

Lydia flicked her eyes at him, taking in the absolutely-not-serious expression on his face. But inside she knew her dad would be disappointed in her; he used to tell her ‘pretty girls don’t use ugly words’, but she’d grown up and he’d left. She didn’t put much stock into his advice. “I’m sure he’s heard worse words. Especially if he hangs around Stiles as much as it seems like.”

“How’d you think he conned us into naming him ‘Uncle’?” mused Isaac. His hand slid lower on her hip, and Lydia was just about to whack it off when he beat her to it, standing up from the bed and sliding around her. “Ah, whatever. guess we’ll just have to wait and find out right?” he asked, shooting a grin at her over his shoulder as he made his way to their closet.

Lydia turned her head to watch him stop in the middle of the small room, propping his hands on his hips as he took stock of his surroundings. “Whatcha lookin’ for?”

“You got your Easter Egg, I want mine.” Lydia cocked her head to the side.

“Easter Egg?”

“Yeah, like in video games.”

She blinked. “Are you serious? You’re treating this like a game?”

“You’re taking it too literal- nevermind.” Isaac glanced back at her. “Wanna trash the room? Totally pull one over our future selves.” Lydia snorted lightly.

“What if we’re stuck here?” she countered. Isaac shrugged and turned back, reaching out to fiddle with the sleeve of a jacket. “Then _we’d_ have to clean it up.”

“But what if we find something?” he murmured, picking through coats idly while Lydia stared on. She took his seat on the bed, twisting around to pick up his phone between her fingers and flick through it; starting with the photos. She stopped one of Eric with a mouthful of ice cream, cookie crumbs and whipped cream smeared across one cheek and wished she could feel….more. She wasn’t his mom, she didn’t feel it.

“Find anything?” asked Lydia absently, flipping to another of Isaac with Scott, looking like a pair of d-bags standing shirtless in front of a lake with backwards hats and sunglasses on. When Isaac didn’t reply she looked up with a frown, tilting her head curiously to find Isaac’s back on her. She stood, replacing his phone on the bed and coming to a stop behind him.

Staring up at his face, Lydia took a moment to study his features before looking over his shoulder. He looked pensive, serious, sad; Lydia’s hand crept lightly over his waist to keep her balance as she rose up on her toes to get a better look at whatever it was he was looking at. “What’s that?” she asked softly, peering into the shoebox in his hands. He angled it toward her, showing her the contents.

“Baby stuff,” he murmured. Lydia reached over his shoulder, picking through a trio of sonogram pictures and tweaking the ear of a small stuffed kangaroo that looked about twenty years old; Isaac’s hand joined hers, fiddling with a teeny tiny hospital bracelet. “We kept all of this…”

“I think _you_ kept it,” she whispered in awe, picking up an old looking polaroid and turning it over. Her breath caught at the almost-familiar image of a man and woman sitting together in an armchair staring at a baby, a preschool aged boy looking at the camera by their side with a toothy grin on his face. “Is this your family?”

Isaac pulled it out of her fingers, dropping it back in the box without a word and closing the lid again. Lydia stepped back, feeling the sting of rejection, and watched Isaac shove the box back where he found it on the shelf above his side of the closet. He turned around, and Lydia took a quick step back at the dark look on his face. He grabbed something at random from one of the hangers and brushed past her, heading back into their bedroom and around their bed. Lydia followed him, heart pounding. “Are you ok?”

“Fine,” he bit out tersely. He turned back to her, jerking his thumb at the only door left unopened. “What do you think, bathroom?”

Lydia frowned, her bottom lip jutting out petulantly. “Isaac…”

“What?” he asked, stopping with his hand on the doorknob, looking at her with those overly wide, innocent eyes. She’d seen it pointed at Scott once or twice, maybe Derek. It made her falter.

“Are you okay?” she asked again. He shot her a look.

“I said I was fine.”

Lydia nodded, unconvinced, and watched Isaac disappear through the bathroom door. “Right…” she said slowly as it shut again. She turned away uncomfortably, indecisive about leaving him alone. She saw his face, saw the reaction he had to..whatever it was in that picture. They really needed to start trusting each other if this was gonna work between them. Lydia snorted softly to herself at the thought; easier said than done.

And since Isaac was all bent out of shape and wouldn’t talk to her, Lydia was left by herself with some time to kill. She brushed a finger against one of the picture frames on the dresser as she passed it by, making a face at one in the back of her and Isaac with Allison and Jackson. Gag.

So she was bitter, big deal. She loved Jackson, and he had dumped her not once, but twice. And then he comes back and suddenly he’s in love with Allison? Grated this was the future and years had probably gone by...and she was with Isaac apparently…. Lydia left the thought and her irritation behind her as she left the bedroom, crossing the hall and into Ronnie’s room. The pale turquoise and bright coral colors of her daughter’s room assaulted her sense, and her redheaded offspring looked up sharply from her desk.

“Mama?”

“Hey,” she said casually, maybe too casually because Ronnie quirked an eyebrow and followed her with her eyes as Lydia walked in to start messing with her stuff. She caught her kid twiddling her pen between her fingers out of the corner of her eye, tweaking the sleeve of a jacket hanging from the wall that looked suspiciously like one she borrowed from Allison in high school and never gave back. Turning her head Lydia shot Ronnie a grin. “Doin’ your homework?”

“Yes, slave driver,” she muttered, turning back to her desk, clicking her pen a few times in irritation. Lydia frowned at the back of her head. She wasn’t that bad was she? “I’m almost done.”

Lydia nodded absently, still staring. “How many times has Dalton texted you since I left?” Her head whipped around, a bright red blush flaring up her cheeks.

“Mom!”

Lydia grinned, turning away to sit on the edge of Ronnie bed. “I didn’t tell him,” she teased. “He’s gonna find out though.”

Her shoulders slumped dramatically, face turning down into a pout. “It not like we’re doing anything,” she grumbled. “He’s two years older than me.”

“And if you think I came down on you hard for that earlier you’re wrong,” said Lydia warningly, sounding too mom-like in her ears. “I don’t care if he’s a McCall-Stilinski hybrid, if he tries something I will make him bleed.”

Power to Melissa and Sheriff Stilinski (though she supposes Greg is appropriate now, seeing as how she’s a grown up and his son is practically dating her daughter) for getting married and popping out another kid. Stiles and Scott became actual brothers, and got a new one all in the same year. Lydia watched Veronica drop her chin against the top of her chair, looking pathetic.

“I really like him,” she mumbled, staring at nothing out of the corner of her eye. “He’s like Uncle Stiles and Uncle Scott only better and cuter.”

Lydia snorted, she could definitely find the appeal in that. “Well that’s something. C’mon, you’re done with your homework.”

Ronnie lifted her head, frowning as Lydia stood up and beckoned her out of her chair. “No I’m not…”

“Yes you are. We’re going to Derek’s for that stupid pre-fourth thing.”

She groaned, reaching out to take her mom’s hand anyway, letting Lydia pull her to her feet and into her side, wrapping an arm around her slim shoulders. “I hate everything.”

“Oh sweetheart,” sighed Lydia, thinking about how much she was not looking forward to this party. “So do I.”

Lydia opened Ronnie’s bedroom door the same time Isaac stepped into the hall, looking up at them beneath wet hair. He flashed Veronica a grin, and Lydia watched it dim around the edges when he met her eyes. “Hey babe.”

_Babe_ , right, he was calling her that now. Lydia pulled her daughter closer, eyebrows furrowing at him over the top of her head. ‘Are you ok?’ she mouthed at him. He swallowed, nodding slightly, and Lydia finally felt herself relax. Huh, didn’t sit well with her when Isaac was upset. Weird.

“Did you put my shorts in the dryer last night?” asked Ronnie, turning her eye up to Lydia, who shrugged.

“Can’t remember, go check.”

The redhead was barely out of earshot before Isaac cleared his throat uncomfortably, glancing down at his fingernails. “About before…”

“Trust issues,” Lydia sighed, scuffing her foot against the floor. “We’ve got ‘em.”

“Well, this _is_ the longest we’ve ever hung out to date,” said Isaac, glancing at her shyly from under his eyebrows. “Figures we don’t trust each other.”

Lydia nodded, teeth clenched. “This is more like… _surviving_ ,” she corrected. “I don’t even know you; like, what’s your favorite color? Favorite fruit? Do you like horror movies? Can you play any instruments?”

“Lyd’ slow down,” said Isaac, choking back a laugh as he leaned into her space and nudged her with his elbow. “You wanna know all of that right now?”

“Do we have a choice?” she countered, raising her eyebrows at him. “We spent all day trying to learn about our lives _here_ , but we never really bothered to learn about each other.”

“We will,” said Isaac quickly, nodding surely. “We’ll find some time later to talk, and I swear we will.” And with that he started down the hall, after Veronica, leaving Lydia standing alone in the hallway. She slumped forward, propping her hands on her hips and trying to wrap her head around the best next course of action, when Isaac’s head popped back around the corner. “And for the record; I like blue, mangos, no on horror movies and the only instrument I’ve ever played is the kazoo.”

Lydia’s head shot up, eyes crinkling from the smile she was trying to hold back. He was making it too easy for her to like him, easy and uncomplicated. When she was dating Jackson, trying to learn about him was like pulling teeth; she didn’t know relationships could be so simple.

“Mommy?” Oh that’s right there were two of them. Lydia smoothed her hair out of her face, composing herself for Eric as her son walked out of his room on the other side of the hall, wearing swimming trunks and a blue and white striped tank top. His face scrunched up in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you,” teased Lydia, covering up her awkwardness immediately and heading toward him, nodding at his attire. “You all ready?”

“Psyched to win!” he crowed, practically skipping down the hall, the sound of his flip flops smack against his feet. “Are you playing in the water balloon fight with us?”

“Oh god no,” shuddered Lydia, balking at the thought. Eric’s grin didn’t falter, but he careened into her side and steered her toward the stairs without pause, his head on her shoulder.

“C’mon…” he begged teasingly. “Everyone’s gonna do it.”

“Dad and I are probably gonna sit this round out,” she heard herself say, already thinking that it would be a perfect time to sneak away and talk. As long as they kept an eye on their kids, that is. She didn’t bother trying to correct herself at this point, it was too tiresome to separate the knowledge that Eric and Veronica weren’t her kids _now_ but might be _one day._

She wasn’t even surprised to find Isaac with Veronica in the kitchen goofing off. Every time she saw him with one of them they just looked so...natural together. She was a little jealous. But maybe not, as she watched Ronnie smear sunscreen across Isaac’s bicep and up into his face. She winced, suppressing a laugh, and wrapped her arm around Eric’s shoulders to keep him glued to her side so he wouldn’t get caught up in the fray.

Isaac looked over at her, one eye shut to keep sunscreen from getting in, and nodded in greeting before turning back to Ronnie, hooking his arm around her waist and rubbing his face against the back of her head. She shrieked, laughing breathlessly.

“Can I put on sunscreen the _normal_ way?” asked Eric, his voice twinged in disgust. Lydia shook her head in disbelief, watching Isaac straighten up and wipe the remaining goop off his face.

“Having fun?”

“I was interrogating her,” said Isaac lamely, turning to Ronnie with a raised eyebrow. She squeaked, rushing to Lydia’s side and hiding behind her.

Lydia raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, good job.”

Isaac grinned wolfishly back, absently rubbing in the rest of the sunscreen on his hand into his arms. Lydia followed the motion, frowning at the amount of exposed skin. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him in anything other than long sleeves, and the reason why was obvious now. There were scars on his arms; they were old, but visible. They went from the elbow and disappeared up into his sleeve, all varying in size and length. It would be easy to excuse them as normal sports injuries, especially a violent game like lacrosse, but Lydia wasn’t able to fool herself into pretending they weren’t anything other than what they were.

If the kids noticed them, they were used to it, and she supposed she should have been too. They’d been married for at least fifteen years, realistically she should be beyond used to the sight; if she loved him she wouldn’t even see them. Turning her head away, Lydia pretended she didn’t notice the way Isaac was looking at her. “Are we ready to go?”

“Sure,” piped Ronnie, pulling away from her back immediately and heading for the front door. Eric lingered next to Lydia, but she turned her head and smacked her lips against the top of his head and he grinned, practically prancing off after his sister. She tucked her hair behind her ear, avoiding Isaac’s eye.

“I could get a jacket-”

“No!” said Lydia immediately, head shooting up to meet his eye. She wished she didn’t, because it was like drowning, and she watched Isaac slowly close his mouth and swallow. Her hand twitched to reach out for him. “One, it’s hot as hell outside,” Isaac shrugged, and Lydia kept going before he could interrupt. “And two that would be weird, I mean...they didn’t…notice.”

“But it bothers you,” Isaac pointed out, and this time Lydia shrugged. It was true, she couldn’t deny it.

“ _Oh well_ ,” she bit out determinedly. “Initial shock over. One step closer, and all that.”

The corner of his lip twitched. “Right.”

Eyes narrowing curiously, Lydia swayed forward and touched his forearm. “Ready to go?”

He sighed. “This is gonna be impossible.”

Lydia snorted, turning on her heel. She felt Isaac following her, picking her purse up from the ground where she had left it next to the door earlier. Isaac held the door open for her, pulling keys out of thin air to lock it behind them. “Hopefully everyone will be too busy to notice.”

“At least now we’ve have a conversation that’s lasted more than five seconds,” chuckled Isaac, half-jogging after her until he caught up with her at the car. She was already reaching for the door handle when he stopped behind her. ”Hey,” he interrupted her turn, wrapping his hand around her waist and pulling her back around. Lydia stared up at him calculatingly, watching his face carefully, as he rested his free hand against the top of the door and leaned into her, brushing his lips against hers softly. He paused, breath warm against her open mouth, and without warning she was inhaling Isaac; the kiss was chaste but it felt consuming, his hand pulling her closer, his scent filling her nose. He needed to shave and tasted like strawberry gatorade, and when he pulled away faster than he’d leaned in Lydia was left winded. She swallowed hard, blinking up at him with one hand in the air from where she’d threaded it into his hair. He grinned at her, shit-eating like, and Lydia felt her stomach drop.

“Just...keeping up with the facade,” he said almost-quietly, quirking his eyebrows at her once before backing away and jogging around the car to the drivers side. Lydia was left standing, staring at the spot he’d left, wondering if she should get him back for that.

“Underhanded, Lahey,” she murmured, rolling her eyes upward as she pursed her lips. With a shake of her head Lydia brushed it off for the moment and turned, climbing into the car beside Isaac and ignoring the grin still on his stupid face.

.

“Well….that’s new.”

The drive up to the Hale property had been awkward. Kids argued in the back seat over nothing while Lydia kept shifting nervously in her seat. At first Isaac had started to head toward Derek’s old loft, but at the last minute remembered what Scott had said the evening was going to consist of and drove in the direction of the Hale house instead. He was glad he did, because as he pulled into the long ass driveway leading up to the refurbished, rebuilt fucking _mansion_ he realized that Derek probably lived _there_ now.

“Wonder when he did all that,” muttered Lydia, glancing sideways at him from her lean against the dashboard in her attempt to get a better view of the house. A shriek from the back seat made her snap around, frowning hard. “Don’t make me come back there.”

“But she-”

“We are literally 30 seconds away, can you behave for that long?”

“Yes ma’am,” grumbled both kids in chorus, and Lydia turned back in her seat with a smug smile on her face. Isaac glanced at her.

“Proud of yourself?”

“I really am.”

“They’re talking about her boyfriend,” said Isaac conversationally, and Lydia watched his jaw clench in irritation. “Wanna fill me in?”

“Nope,” said Lydia lightly, propping her elbow on the seat divider between them and leaning her chin against her first. “It’ll be more fun to watch your face when you find out.”

“He smells familiar,” grumbled Isaac, shaking his head. “I just can’t figure out why.”

Lydia raised an eyebrow. “You can _smell_ him on her?”

“Not like that,” he said quickly. “It’s just a lingering scent, like what you pick up after you’ve been around someone. If he touched her he’d be dead, _believe_ me.”

Ronnie appeared between them , propping her elbows on each of their seatbacks and clearing her throat. “You know I can hear you, right?”

Isaac kept his eyes on the road, barely turning his head toward her. “Yeah, I learned how to whisper from Scott and Stiles.”

Lydia snorted while Ronnie just pouted, leaning back in her seat petulantly. Eric poked her in the cheek with a grin he obviously picked up from Isaac; she retaliated, and Lydia sighed at the resulting cry of pain, rubbing her temple. “I hate kids.”

Isaac laughed at her, pulling to a stop at the end of the driveway behind a lime green prius with claw marks in the bumper. Before he’d even turned off the car both kids were flying out, sprinting around the house toward the backyard and leaving Lydia and Isaac alone to stare after them. “Okay...”

Lydia leaned her head against the seat rest, closing her eyes with a sigh. “Can we really do this?” she whispered, more to herself then Isaac. He mimicked her, staring at her from his side of the car.

“Sure we can,” he said quietly back, his voice a rumble in his chest. “We just have to find the right people to help us out.”

“Scott,” answered Lydia, blinking up at the roof of the car. “Thank god for Scott.”

The click of Isaac unbuckling his seat belt startled her back to reality, and she looked over just in time to see Isaac hop of out the car. “You comin’?”

She followed, hands clenched at her side nervously as they walked side by side up to the front door; instead of going around back like the kids had. It was unlocked, and Lydia let Isaac go in first, taking her time to appreciate the pleasantly un-crispy appearance of the house’s interior. It was warm, clean, smelled like barbeque chicken and pine sol in a homey sort of way. There was a clatter deep in the house, and before either of them had a chance to compose themselves Scott was rounding the corner. “Guys!”

Lydia blinked at him; the facial hair was a little surprising, but other than that he looked mostly the same. A little older, more filled out, but nothing shocking. Weren’t they all supposed to be almost forty? Why did everyone look like they could step into a high school classroom and not get arrested? Lydia chalked it up to being a supernatural thing, werewolf metabolism or something.

She felt Isaac relax beside her and start forward toward a practically vibrating Scott. “I haven’t seen you guys in like a week!” he pulled Isaac into a brief but tight hug, tugging Lydia by the arm into his chest for the same treatment. “How’s life?”

Lydia couldn’t help but grin back at him, stepping away from him when the hug was done and stopping only when her back hit Isaac’s chest. His fingers touched the small of her back, trailing up her spine a little ways when she glanced up at him. “Uh...”

“Good,” said Isaac, shifting on his feet uncomfortably. Lydia frowned, looking to the floor with a frown. Scott cocked his head to the side, eyeing them curiously.

“Oh!” he shouted, startling them both as he wave one hand in the air flippantly. “Totally forgot to pick up my brother, I’ll be back in like ten minutes. There’s beer and food on the kitchen, great view of Derek at the grill. He keeps adding lighter fluid so it should be a good show.” He clapped Isaac on the shoulder with a grin, moving around them toward the front door, picking up his keys along the way. “Stiles ‘ll be here around 7, and I think Cora and Danny are filling up water balloons. See ya!”

Neither of them moved until the front door shut again. Lydia whirled on him, staring up in disbelief while his eyes narrowed at her. “What the hell was that?”

“Me? I thought you were gonna say something!” she hissed back.

“Why would I…Ugh,” Isaac groaned, shaking his head. “I was,” he admitted. “But it’s just...weird.”

Lydia deflated. He was right, they needed to tell Scott someplace _other_ than a hallway where anyone could listen in. It just sucked because now he was gone, and their window may have just closed. Isaac suddenly frowned, head swiveling back toward the front door. “Scott has a brother?”

Lydia nodded absently, chewing on her thumb nail as she thought of new ways to broach the subject of time travel with Scott. “Dalton, he’s 16.” Isaac frowned at her.

“How do you know that?”

She froze, turning her eyes upward slowly. “Uh…”

His eyes narrowed, but Lydia took his calculating silence to slide away from him, in the direction Scott had come from. She felt his eyes follow her, a growl rising up in his throat. “Lydia, is Scott’s punk brother-”

“He’s not a punk,” she snorted, shooting him a look over her shoulder just before she turned the corner. Isaac followed, snarling unintelligibly behind her.

She’d found the kitchen, apparently, and nodded in approval at whoever decorated it. Without warning, Isaac inhaled sharply, and Lydia turned around to ask him what was wrong, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her to the ground before she could open her mouth. She groaned as her back hit the wood panel island in the middle of the kitchen hard.

“ _What?_ ” she asked wildly, looking up at him with wide eyes as Isaac pulled her closer toward the island he was using like a barricade. He shushed her, looking over his shoulder and around the island, missing the look she gave him. It wasn’t a good look.

“ _Isaac,_ ” Lydia ground out carefully; waiting a beat, teeth grinding together angrily. “What the _hell?_ ”

“Ok,” started Isaac, still not looking at her. “Ok.” again, but this time he turned back around, pressing his knuckles to his lips. She could feel his heart pounding against her shoulder, his breathing almost ragged. “Very carefully look out the window.”

Lydia stared blankly, unamused. “What.”

“Slowly,” Isaac amended, his hands leaving her body (she didn’t want to think about where he’d had them and why she didn’t even notice) as he twisted around to look over the top of the kitchen island. Lydia rolled her eyes, but figured there must be a reason for the idiocy, and followed his lead with a huff.

“Alright, what am I looking at?” she asked blandly, glancing at Isaac. He nodded to her right, out the window into the backyard, and Lydia shifted to try and get a better view. There was Derek standing in front of a smoking grill, beer in hand. Danny with an arm full of water balloons being hassled by a pair of boys (one of them being her’s) while Ronnie was laid out in the grass in nothing but a swimsuit top and shorts. She sighed, finally following Isaac’s instruction and felt her stomach drop open. Lydia choked on a gasp, knees hitting the tile floor and pressing her hands against the wood panels for support.

She shook her head, feeling Isaac sit back on his knees beside her. “He’s…We lied.” Lydia looked up, eyes stinging, and found sympathy in Isaac’s face. “Peter’s alive.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Peter’s alive.”

Isaac shot Lydia a look. They were both sitting on the kitchen floor against the island, and Lydia looked like she was in shock. “Yeah, you mentioned that a couple times.”

“But he’s _alive_.”

Isaac shrugged, dropping his head back. “So he’s a liar, big shock.”

Lydia turned, looking at him with an aghast expression on her face. “ _We_ told him he was dead,” she said slowly. Isaac shrugged again, not saying a word. “So did we lie to _him?_ ”

“Maybe he tried to change the future,” suggested Isaac, glancing at her. Lydia shook her head.

“Time travel shouldn’t be able to work like that,” she explained, her voice shaking. “Our coming here didn’t change the future because it’s already happened, at least for Peter and everyone else. We _knew_ we were coming to the future,” she pointed out their earlier theory. “So obviously we lied to Peter, making him believe he was dead.”

“Why would we do that?” asked Isaac, turning his head to look at her fully. She had the hem of her dress bunched in her hands, wrinkling it, and there was sweat collecting at her temples. He reached out, hesitated, and dropped his arm; physical comfort probably wasn’t what she needed, this was Lydia for crying out loud, she needed to _talk_. He sighed, then chuckled suddenly as a thought came to him. “Maybe we did it so he would quit bugging us about it.”

Lydia’s lip twitched. “Maybe.” she chewed her lower lip, looking over at him thoughtfully. “Hey, Isaac-”

But whatever she had to say was interrupted by the back door swinging open, and they both held their breath, looking around as Peter walked in running his hand through his wet hair. There were multicolored pieces of water balloons clinging to his damp shirt, and he stopped suddenly when he noticed them. On the floor.

Peter quirked an eyebrow, pulling the tied end of a balloon out from under his shirt collar. He opened his mouth to say something and closed it, shaking his head and continuing his journey to the sink; but not before spouting off a coy, insinuating “Hi Lydia.”

Isaac’s lip twitched into a snarl, feeling like something stupid would be the proper reaction to this situation; he climbed to his feet, ignoring the wide eyed look Lydia had pinned him with from the ground as he turned to Peter. Hands braced against the countertop, Isaac watched the older man dry himself off, in the background Eric and some other kid around his age were throwing water balloons at each other.

“Get caught in the crossfire?” asked Isaac, his voice steely. Peter glanced at him through his reflection in the window, expression unchanging.

“I was ambushed,” he corrected, a small smirk appearing on his face. “Not the first time.”

“So Peter-”

“Isaac, don’t,” warned Lydia, her hand wrapping around his ankle. Her voice had been low, but he’d heard it clearly enough, and so had Peter, because he turned fully to face him, tossing the hand towel he’d been using to dry himself off onto the counter beside him.

“This whole ‘dying’ thing, you must think about that a lot,” Isaac continued, ignoring Lydia. Peter’s attention seemed to peak, his gaze wavering toward the spot he knew Lydia was sitting in and back to Isaac. The younger man raised an eyebrow condescendingly. “Gotta suck.”

“I don’t linger on it,” said Peter casually, crossing his arms over his chest. “But as the years go by I’m worried that you may have….exaggerated the truth.”

Isaac lifted a shoulder, frowning in a ‘I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about’ way. “Why would we do that?”

“I don’t know,” he started, eyes swinging to Isaac’s left. “Lydia? Why would you do something like that?”

Isaac looked over, surprised to see the redhead standing next to him, her expression bland and posture stiff. He took a gamble and reached for her hand, feeling warmth spread through his limbs when she turned her hand over and let him take it. “How often do we have this conversation, Peter?” asked Lydia, her body language changing abruptly. Her shoulders dropped, head falling to one side and her eyes fluttering innocently, simpering. Peter’s shoulders stiffened.

“He brought it up,” was his excuse, nodding to Isaac who only shrugged. Lydia shook her head, looking disappointed.

“Really, Peter,” she admonished, squeezing Isaac’s hand and pulling away from the counter, and Peter.

She didn’t let go, leading Isaac out of the kitchen and leaving Peter standing alone. “Don’t say a word,” she whispered, glancing at him nervously. And he didn’t, his eyes never leaving the back of Lydia’s head until he was assaulted by sunlight and the sound of screaming children in his ears. Isaac ducked just in time for a stream of water to shoot over his head, and he straightened with wide eyes, whirling toward the direction it had come from.

Cora grinned at him, waving her watergun in greeting before turning and firing it off again, this time at Eric and the boy following him. “Run little monsters!”

Lydia turned to him with wide eyes, looking for all the world like she was surprised; but Isaac could feel an underlying anxiety in her pulse, and reached for her hand again. He leaned forward and she followed, her eyes falling halfway shut. “You shouldn’t have started that with Peter, it was stupid.”

“I’m impulsive,” shrugged Isaac. “I do stupid stuff like… _all_ the time.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Besides, what the hell is he gonna do to us?” asked Isaac, glancing over her shoulder toward Derek in a floral printed apron and a very serious look on his face as he stared down at his grill. He looked back at Lydia, grip tightening on her hand. “What’s _anyone_ gonna do?”

The moment he said it he felt the weight of reality push against his chest. Really, what could anyone do for them? They travelled through time for no apparent reason with no apparent way of getting back, if by Lydia’s logic they really did get back they had no idea of when or how. They were lost. Lydia followed his train of thought with worried eyes, her lips parting a fraction as his face darkened. She tugged him forward, bracing a hand against his chest and Isaac struggled to calm down. But he felt trapped, and it was hard to keep the anxiety down.

“This isn’t the place,” she whispered, leaning up on her toes to touch her lips to his cheekbone. He turned his head, feeling a spark of something else in his panic. Lydia’s green eyes bore into him. Isaac wet his lips. “Are you ok?”

He wished he had some sense of stability, that someone he trusted knew about what was going on. Lydia was great, and without her he was pretty sure he’d be lost, but he didn’t trust her; it would take a lot of opening up for him to trust her. Isaac nodded. “Yeah.”

She tilted her head a little, looking skeptical. “You’re not lying?”

“I don’t...lie.”

Lydia blinked, looking surprised by that information. “I’m just...I’m not,” she rolled her eyes, cutting herself off and looking away. Isaac watched her smile ruefully. “Jackson was a terrible liar.”

He felt a little frozen. “You’re thinking about Jackson?”

He was answered by a sharp look. “No,” she said bitingly. “I’m not.” and with that she tugged her arm away from him and stepped away, shooting him an unreadable look before she turned away. Isaac watched her headed for the cooler next to Derek’s feet, ignoring the older man completely as she pulled a beer out of the ice; Derek was staring at her oddly, like he’d only just noticed her, and swung his upper body around to find Isaac.

“Was wondering where you two were.”

“Hn.”

Derek glanced at Lydia with a little frown, stepping away from her and his grill and heading over to Isaac, a wide smile spreading over his face. Isaac relaxed, stepping in to pull Derek into a hug; it was brief but it made a difference, and when Derek stepped away Isaac felt better. Derek gestured over his shoulder with the butt of his beer bottle, making a curious face. “What’s up with Lydia.”

Isaac sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Pissed her off.”

Derek nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, you do that.”

“Hey!” Isaac laughed, shoving Derek in the gut. The older man just laughed, taking a swig of his beer.

“Let me guess,” he continued, looking at the ground with a knowing smile. “Jackson?”

The smile slid off Isaac’s face. That was a little scary; did they fight about Jackson a lot? Was he and Allison the reason they were even together? That seemed like the kind of thing he’d bring up; most definitely a reason to be bitter. “Yeah, why?”

Derek lifted his eyebrows innocently, lifting his beer to his mouth. “It’s the _only_ thing you argue about.”

Isaac snorted, looking off absently. “That’s not true.” Off the top of his head he could name like five things they argued about _now_. Derek clicked his tongue, looking affronted.

“Ok, the only _real_ thing,” he amended. “Everything else you guys have this….weird agreement on.” Isaac watched him, bemused, as Derek gestured with his beer bottle, pointing it at Isaac and mouthing the word ‘Scary’ at him, like it was a secret. Drunk Derek was fun, Isaac decided. He should be drunk more often.

“Yes we do,” agreed Isaac in mock seriousness. “Because in fact, we’ve been to the future and know exactly what’s gonna happen.” The look Lydia shot him from behind Derek was icy, but Derek only grinned, nodding along.

“Yeah, that’s one of Stiles’ theories,” he agreed, drinking again. “But I think it’s the sex.”

Isaac swallowed hard, very vividly imagining sex with Lydia. He accidently caught her eye, to which she sneered at before turning back to watch Eric run around. His eyes followed the pale lines of her legs, and he snapped out of it just in time to notice the knowing look Derek had been giving him before his face cleared.

“Shut up.”

“Hey, I’ve walked in on you two enough over the years to understand,” said Derek quickly, holding up his hands defensively. He looked over his shoulder, and Isaac felt his stomach tighten as Derek objectified his wife. “Very much.”

Isaac shook his head, staring blankly at Derek. “Dude.”

Derek drained the last of his beer, ignoring Isaac’s stare until he turned back with his mouth halfway open to speak, and balked. “What’s with your face? I haven’t see that expression since your senior year of high school.”

What face? He was doing a face? Derek scribbled his finger around in the air in front of Isaac’s face, looking disgruntled. “I mean the possessive jealousy's always sort of there, but you got a lot better at hiding it.” Derek squinted at him. “I honestly thought you were over Jackson, you said you only bring it up nowadays to piss off Lydia.”

“Uh..”

“You said it’s ‘cause she’s ‘hot when she’s angry’,” Derek quoted, continuing like Isaac hadn’t said anything. Isaac glanced around Derek awkwardly toward Lydia, but she was pointedly ignoring him. He was about to roll his eyes and foist some excuse onto Derek, but the smell of burning meat caught his senses, and he turned his attention to Derek’s grill.

“Oh, dude.”

Isaac put his hands on Derek’s shoulder, turning him around to show him the disaster about to unfold, and just like that their conversation was forgotten as Derek’s alcohol addled brain went into overdrive. He swore, loud enough to halt the fun being had by Cora, Eric and whatever kid they were playing with. Without pause, Cora swung her supersoaker in Derek’s direction and fired, very impressively hitting him right in the face. Derek swore again.

“Fuck- CORA!”

“Don’t swear in front of the kids, d-bag!”

Derek growled something in French, making Lydia snort from her spot on the edge of the grass. Isaac watched her sip on her beer, every minute movement causing the sun to strike her hair in different ways. He thought about what Derek said and closed his eyes, feeling nearly horrified about his jealous. Lydia and Jackson hadn’t ended their relationship nearly as long ago as he thought, maybe being in the future was starting to mess with his head. And jealous? Him? He didn’t know her well enough to feel that way.

Squinting at Lydia with a grimace on his face, Isaac sucked it up and and walked over to her, hovering by her shoulder for a few moments while she continued to ignore him. Finally, she silently held out her beer for him, crossing her arms under her chest when he took it. Isaac lifted the bottle to his mouth, pausing before he took a drink to say- “Sorry.”

Lydia turned her head, staring back blankly. Not saying a word to him, she turned away again. Isaac fiddled with the bottle’s wrapper, looking down at it in his hands for something to do. “Did you catch any of that?”

“No,” said Lydia quickly, practically ending the conversation before it began. But it was important, and they could shut each other out so soon. Isaac looked at her from below his eyebrows, giving her a little bit of silence before he spoke again.

“Apparently the only thing we argue about is Jackson,” he said almost quietly, watching her for any kind of reaction. She swallowed, but that was it; so he kept going. “And I only do it piss you off.”

Lydia’s head whipped around. “ _What?_ ”

Isaac shrugged, lips twitching in amusement. “Can’t make that up,” he murmured. Lydia huffed and looked away, shaking her head.

“I just wish we…” she trailed off, but Isaac got it. At least he hoped he did.

“Yeah?”

She looked down, her hair falling to obscure her face; and Isaac wanted to reach out and push it away, but he didn’t. They kept crossing lines and pulling back, and he was just starting to realize that’s what they were doing to each other. One minutes he was fine and the next he was using her as an anchor. Lydia’s head came up, looking at him with an expression Isaac would call affectionate, and reached for his hand. “C’mon,” she said, tugging him away from the yard and back in the direction of the house. “Scott’s gonna be back soon.”

.

Scott walked through the front door with his little brother in tow to find Lydia and Isaac sitting side by side on the staircase. Dalton immediately drew back, and Scott couldn’t really blame him; if Isaac ever found out he was fooling around with Ronnie he’d be dead before he could open his mouth. Puppy dog eyes and cherub attitude aside, Isaac could be intimidating when he wanted to. Scott turned his head and smirked knowingly. Dalton kicked at his ankles.

Isaac and Lydia perked up the moment Scott walked in, trying not to laugh at the way his brother sort of hid behind him as he followed. “Hey guys-”

“Scott we need to talk.”

They stood in tandem, something Scott was used to; but they smelled like anxiety and that made him frown. He nodded. “Sure. Everyone else is outside, Dalt-”

The darkness that descended on Isaac’s face was priceless, and Scott would have given anything to tape Dalton’s reaction. Oh, the man obviously new Dalton was trying to get into his daughter’s pants, and Scott would have _paid_ to hear the list of harm Isaac would do to him if anything happened to the redhead. It was a shame Stiles wasn’t there to be witness too.

Lydia diffused the situation with a hand to Isaac’s bicep and an exhausted sounding, “ _Don’t. ___”

“ _Lyd_ ia-”

“She doesn’t know you know,” Scott heard her mumble. “Just chill.”

While Isaac was distracted by his wife, Dalton took the opportunity to escape, and Scott sighed because his punk ass baby brother was probably going to dig himself into a deeper hole and try to find Ronnie. That pretty redhead was going to be the death of Isaac _for real_. Scott cleared his throat when his brother was out of eyeshot, earning two pairs of eyes snapping onto him in an unnerving sort of way.

“You guys wanted to talk?”

Isaac took a step away from Lydia, scuffing his knuckles across the bridge of his nose as he looked away. Scott frowned at the gesture and turned to Lydia, but his redheaded friend suddenly looked a lot smaller. She licked her lips and struggled to keep eye contact with him. “Scott…”

He looked between them, raising his eyebrows with a helpful “Yeah?”

“Did we ever tell you about...” Isaac’s hand glanced across the back of his neck. “I mean, do you know…”

Scott’s stomach sank. There were a lot of ways they could take this conversation, and none of them were exactly fun; they were kind of private people so the stuff he _could_ know was pretty limited. Scott turned his eyes to Lydia, hopefully she’d have better luck, but it looked like she was just as stuck as Isaac was. He cracked a grin, trying to lighten the mood. “Can I buy a vowel?”

Lydia folded her hands in front of herself, glancing up nervously at Isaac. “How...do you feel about time travel?”

And suddenly he was lightheaded. “Oh.”

Isaac winced. “He knows.”

Was that happening _now?_ He’d always just sort of...well Peter believed it but he’d never really considered….so they were _actually_ pretending to be a couple just to blend in and...oh this was awkward. This was so, so so, _so_ awkward. “Oh.”

Lydia made a face. “You said that already.”

Scott shook his head to clear it, looking between the couple in front of him with an open mouth and disbelief in his eyes. “When did this happen?!” He wasn’t angry, or even confused, in fact he was a little shocked. Isaac had told him (like...almost three decades ago, holy christ he was getting old) that he’d been the only person they trusted, but still how long had they been stuck like this? Their kids must be freaking out- “Do Ronnie and Eric know?”

Lydia’s face twisted into something he was more familiar with, incredulity with a touch of mockery. “Of course not, idiot.”

Isaac’s eyes hardened. "Do they find out?”

Scott held up his hands quickly, backpedaling. “I have no idea, all you guys ever told me was that it happened and to not freak out.”

“Well that time is now,” said Lydia, earning looks from both Scott and Isaac. She rolled her eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” said Scott with a grin. “This is _such_ a bad sci-fi movie waiting to happen. Do you guys feel different?”

“Confusion and a building rage, Scott,” snapped Lydia, teeth grinding together irritatedly. “Start talking.”

He blinked at her. “About what?”

Isaac caught his attention first, the taller man raising an eyebrow at him like he should know the answer to that. “About _anything_ ,” he stressed. “We have absolutely no idea what’s going on, Scott, we need your help.”

“I honestly have _no_ idea what help I could be,” said Scott apologetically. He lifted a shoulder, explaining “We all went to different colleges, the two of you only moved back here like five years ago.”

Isaac pointed at him. “There. That, we didn’t know that.” Scott frowned.

“How’d you not know that?”

“ _Because we’re from the fucking past, McCall_ ,” Lydia ground out, practically shaking with rage. Isaac looked at her, opened his mouth, thought better of it and closed it again. He leaned back on his heels and shrugged at Scott. “It’s astonishing how little we actually know,” Lydia continued, flicking her hand around in the air. “It took me thirty minutes just to get my own kid to tell me she was dating your little brother.”

Isaac crossed his arms over his chest, frowning deeply but not saying a word about it. “I’m seriously gonna hit him.” or maybe he was.

Scott sighed, running his hand through his hair. He stared at the ground for a minute, trying to wrap his head around this. In his silence, Lydia and Isaac turned to each other; he watched them, saw the way Lydia’s frown dimmed a little when Isaac reached out to touch her arm, the way he leaned closer to her when she wasn’t looking. If he was being honest, he was used to it and more; but this was the Isaac and Lydia he knew in _high school_ , a lot had changed between them back then in a very short amount of time, and now he knew why. Now he sort of… _got it._

Cracking a grin, Scott’s gaze jumped from one to the other. “It’s kinda nice knowing how this happened.”

Lydia looked up, curiosity overtaking her anger. “What?”

“You two getting together,” he explained. He watched them share a puzzled look, and just before Lydia opened her mouth to ask him again, he continued. “I’ve always routed for you guys, you’ve been through a ton and-”

“Like what?”

Scott hesitated, mouth hanging open. It would be so easy to spill the beans on their whole life before this moment, to tell them everything they needed to know. It wasn’t like he knew everything, but he knew enough, he knew a lot. “I don’t think I should tell you.”

Lydia groaned softly, and Isaac just frowned, looking put off. “That’s why we came to you, Scott. To help us.”

“And I will,” he said quickly, holding up his hands defensively. “I just...don’t think I should ruin this for you guys. Listen, let me explain,” he began, talking louder before either of them had the chance to interrupt (and it looked like they both _really_ wanted to). “I care about you both, I do. If you guys need to know stuff like...what Ronnie and Eric are allergic to (“Shit, they’re allergic to stuff?” muttered Lydia with a wince.) or how to get to the private school they go to (“Well that makes sense, if they go year round,” said Isaac with a shrug.). But some stuff is like...sacred, and I can’t ruin that.”

Scott watched them both deflate a little, and he felt bad. They looked bummed that he wouldn’t tell them anything. Isaac ran his finger through his hair absently, looking at his shoes as he thought. Lydia had her arms cross over her chest, staring unblinkingly at Scott. She was the one who spoke first, a lot more quietly than he’d imagined her to. “I understand,” she said softly, earning an appraising look from Isaac. “It’s not fair for us to put all of this on you; we just don’t have any idea what’s going on.”

“It’s kind of terrifying,” admitted Isaac, just as softly. “And we just thought you might….” he trailed off, gesturing between them. Scott ducked his head and sighed.

“I wish I could,” he muttered. The back door opened with a bang, and all three looked up to see a soaking wet Eric slid into view, followed by- “Don’t run in the house!” Scott shouted, watching both boys slip on the tile as they careened into the kitchen. He looked over at Isaac just in time to see his taller time-travelled friend raise an eyebrow.

“Who is that?” he asked, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder.

“Oh! That’s Thomas, Danny’s nephew,” explained Scott. “A little after Danny joined the pack his older sister died, so he got guardianship.”

Lydia frowned, looking uncomfortable. “When did Danny join?”

“After college, look guys-” Scott broke off, placing his hands on his friends shoulders supportively. “You guys don’t need to know everything right now, hell, you don’t need to know _anything_. You’ll get there, I promise.” he waited until they both nodded and smiled gently. “And you _will_ get home again. Trust me.”

Isaac nodded again and Lydia went as far as to smile a little back at him. He didn’t have them convinced, but hopefully they’d be able to enjoy themselves a little, maybe stop freaking out so much about stuff they didn’t know.

“Thanks, Scott.”


	7. Chapter 7

Isaac and Lydia were sitting together again on the staircase, shoulder-to-shoulder with equally frustrated frowns on their faces. Scott had left them there to go outside and get a beer, promising that he’d keep Peter off their cases long enough for them to chill out. Lydia had head head against the banister, staring unblinkingly at the front door waiting for something to happen; she wanted out of this funk, and if not her then Isaac. One of them had to be sane, that was how they’d been playing it up until now.

“This sucks,” she breathed, trying and failing to see any optimism in their situation.

Isaac hummed in agreement beside her, leaning backwards until he was lying on the stairs. Lydia turned her head to look at him, watching him stare up at the ceiling with a glum look on his face. Scott said they’d been through a lot together, and if he didn’t know the details of what they were going through here, that meant there was more to come. They weren’t prepared at all.

“My favorite color’s purple,” said Lydia softly, watching Isaac turn his eyes onto her. “I used to love scary movies when I was a kid, and my favorite fruit is kiwi.” His lips twitched for a moment and stayed, eyes traveling back to the ceiling. “My parents got divorced when I was twelve.”

Isaac exhaled sharply. “Trading in the musical instrument for parental drama? Cheater.”

Lydia shook her head with a small smile. “Piano.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, nodding. “I can see it.”

She looked away, smile still intact, to focus back on the door as they lapsed into silence again. She felt Isaac prop himself up on his elbows behind her, nudging her knee with his. Lydia quirked an eyebrow, but didn’t look back. “What?”

“Scott knows,” he said, and Lydia could hear the grin in his voice. She frowned hard, shooting him an exasperated look over her shoulder.

“So what?” she was aware, and he wasn’t going to be any help.

“So he _knows_ ,” Isaac repeated. She stared blankly and didn’t respond. How could she? He wasn’t making any sense. Scott would have been their ticket to sanity, but instead he was leaving them hanging, how was that something to be excited about? Isaac licked his lips and gestured wordlessly at her for a second. “It’s...We have someone,” he finally managed, eyes shining. “We’re not alone.”

Lydia felt her lips part, eyes falling down to his lips. “We have each other, Isaac,” she said thickly, swallowing back some unwanted emotion that she refused to acknowledge as sadness. “Even if he didn’t know, we would have had each other.”

“Yeah, but-”

“I know you’re trying to make this better, but you can’t,” interrupted Lydia, turning back around. She felt Isaac sit up, leaning against her shoulder. His hand swept across the step she was sitting on, giving her the impression that he wanted to hug her.

“One step forward, two steps back,” he murmured, breath washing against her neck. Lydia refused to acknowledge him, but he didn’t seem to mind, just dropped his chin onto the ball of her shoulder and sighed through his nose. “We need to stop doing that.”

“We need to stop taking turns to have tantrums too,” agreed Lydia, wrapping her arms around her knees and displacing Isaac from her. He nodded, scooting down to sit on the next step down and twisting around to face her

“Basically we have to turn into grown ups in the next five seconds,” he reiterated, raising both eyebrows in a ‘should be easy you crazy bitch’ kinda way. Lydia smirked.

“I think I’ll be 17 a little longer,” she said matter of factly, tilting her head to the side cutely and being rewarded with a smile from Isaac. At that moment the sound of the door being opened caught their attention, and again they looked toward the foyer as two girls stepped in.

“A-Allison,” stammered Lydia, smile stuck on her face. Isaac’s shoulders tensed a little and Lydia’s eyes flew back down to him. He was...he looked shocked. Swallowing hard, the redhead looked to Allison. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

The brunette smiled brightly at them both, tucking her hair behind her ears as her daughter waved hello. “Found out I had Em at the last minute,” she explained, and Lydia clenched her teeth as her unfounded anger for the 11 year old sparked. Allison closed the door behind her with a sigh, propping her hands on her hips. “Derek set himself on fire yet?”

“Nah, he’s drunk in the backyard,” said Isaac, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. Emily giggled, looking up at her mom.

“Waterballons?”

Allison rolled her eyes, and like a rocket Emily was gone from her side. Lydia felt her hand twitch. She really needed to remember not to be hostile to the little girl; it wasn’t her fault her dad was a pig and her mom was a backstabbing-

“So where’s Jackson?” asked Isaac, interrupting Lydia’s train of thought. She glanced at him briefly, sizing up his question, before turning her attention back to Allison. Lydia watched her friend turn her eyes up to the ceiling and shake her head.

“Back to New York,” she said exasperatedly. “I’m getting sick of it.”

She shrugged once, hands slapping against her thighs in a way that looked like she was giving up, Allison headed down the hallway after her child without another word. Lydia turned her head to watch her go, frowning curiously. “What do you think she meant by that?”

Isaac stood with an exhausted sounding sigh, stepping down to the ground floor slowly as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Probably shouldn’t ask,” he warned. But Lydia wasn’t really listening, watching Allison disappear outside. “Lyd.”

“Huh?” she swung her head around, looking up at Isaac with wide eyes. He chewed on his lip, shook his head and held his hand out for her.

“C’mon,” he said instead, not waiting for her permission and just picking up her hand to tug her onto her feet. “Time to socialize.”

Lydia groaned, but followed anyway, rolling her head back limply like a preteen. “It’s not gonna be good, Isaac.”

“Scott ‘ll be out there,” promised Isaac, linking their fingers together and leading her toward the backyard. Lydia shot him a look.

“How does that help?”

“Well, for starters, he can stop us from saying anything stupid.”

She perked up a little at that. “You know… this might not be the total disaster I keep imagining it’s gonna be.”

“That’s the spirit.”

.

“This is the worst,” grumbled Lydia, squeezing water out of her hair as Isaac stood beside her grinning like a fool. He reached out, picking something orange and rubbery out of her hair.

“Missed one.”

“I _hate_ water balloon fights,” she stressed, batting his hand away from her hair again. Isaac only laughed. He reached out again, tucking a damp curl behind her ear and pulling away his hand away like it was nothing.

“They really nailed you.”

Lydia snorted. “Understatement.” Eric thought pelting his sister with water balloons would end well. It didn’t, because she screamed and Dalton retaliated; resulting in Eric hiding behind Isaac until the Stilinski-McCall hybrid backed down under threat of dismemberment. Lydia had never seen Scott laugh so hard before, which resulted in _her_ taking Cora’s supersoaker and drenching the jackass.

She was defending her baby girl. And she regretted it.

“Ronnie’s got a hell of an arm,” cackled Isaac. Lydia kicked at his ankle.

“Ass,” she grumbled. They were back in the kitchen, having bailed on the festivities when Cora finally called the start of the bracket game. Lydia pulled her hair over one shoulder, grimacing at the mess and parted it out to start braiding, maybe it’d be easier to handle that way.

“It wasn’t so bad though, was it?”

“Hm, we didn’t actually _talk_ to anyone,” Lydia answered, gaze flicking up briefly. Isaac shrugged.

“Guess we didn’t,” he mumbled, bracing his hands on the edge of the sink and looking down. “I thought it was kinda fun.”

“ _You_ didn’t get water up your nose, did you? No, you just stood there looking scary while Veronica’s boyfriend practically wet himself.”

Isaac grinned at her words, staring out the window to watch their kids run around in the sprinklers with arms full of water balloons. “This is easier than I thought it was gonna be,” he said, getting a faraway look in his eyes; Lydia watched it vanish and he swallowed, looking down to mutter under his breath. “Guess my dad didn’t think so.”

Her heart leapt into her throat, choking around her smile. She reached out unexpectedly, gripping his forearm hard. His head snapped down to look at her hand, then his eyes rose to hers, and if he asked her right then what she was doing she wouldn’t have been able to say. There was a heavy, suffocating moment between them where all they did was stare at eachother before Lydia’s senses finally started working again. She loosened her grip, about to pull away when she felt his hand cover hers.

Lydia stared up unblinkingly, her breath coming in shallow while Isaac didn’t look like he was breathing at all. His hand slid up the back of her hand, fingers curling around her slim wrist until the pads were pressed against her pulse.

“Tell me,” she heard herself say, watching Isaac’s eyes widen a fraction. She licked her lips, and repeated herself. “Tell me.”

His lips parted, shaking his head a fraction but not really telling her no. He sucked in a breath and blinked. “Lydia…”

“Let me in,” she breathed, stepping closer, her eyes falling down his face to his lips. She watched them tremble for a second and then raised them up to meet his once again. “Please trust me.”

He exhaled slowly, almost shrinking into himself. “I don’t know how.”

Lydia stared at him, unable to answer. She didn’t know how to trust people either, wasn’t it something that just happened? She _wanted_ to trust him, wasn’t that something? Wasn’t that _enough_? Isaac’s eyes searched her face for a moment, the hand around her wrist loosening a fraction just before it tightened and tried to drag her closer, bending his head down and closing his eyes. Lydia hesitated, staring at the top of his head; she could smell the shampoo he’d stolen from their future selves bathroom, the spicy smell of body wash and and something that had to just be Isaac. She pressed her lips gently against his hair and exhaled slowly through her nose.

“We had this basement.”

That was all he said, but Lydia’s heart was pounding so hard in her ears she wouldn’t have been able to hear anything else even if he had more to say. Lydia opened her mouth, unsure what was going to come out, when she was interrupted by the sound of the front door (once again) opening.

“Anyone here?”

Isaac’s head shot up, eyes brightening. “Ms McCall?”

Lydia bit back a grin as Scott’s mom ducked into the kitchen carrying a pie, Greg and Stiles behind her with bags of ice between them. “Hi sweetheart!” she greeted him happily, putting the pie down on the island as she walked up to them and pulled Isaac into a hug. She pulled away and smoothed his hair down, eyes crinkling; swinging her smile onto Lydia, she leaned forward to kiss the redheads cheek. “How’re you two?”

“Acting _weird_ ,” snorted Stiles, shouldering in-between Isaac and Lydia to drop his bag of ice into the sink with a grunt. Lydia kicked at his ankle. “Ow!”

“You kidnapped our children and took them to Six Flags,” snapped Isaac, glaring at him. Lydia’s eyebrows shot up, eyes widening. She whirled on Stiles, propping her hands on her hips. Beside her, Melissa did the same.

“You did _what?_ ”

Stiles groaned. “They already reamed me about this on Friday, Mama Mel, don’t lay into me too.”

“Stiles, you don’t take other peoples children,” Greg scolded, shaking his head from his spot in front of the pie Melissa had forgotten about.

“But I’m their godfather-”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“But-”

“Does. Not. Matter.”

Stiles threw his hands into the air and practically sashayed out of the kitchen, before he was even out of earshot Melissa turned to them both and clapped her hands together. “Where are my grandkids?”

Lydia felt her eyebrows shoot up and shared a look with Isaac; he looked just as confused as she felt. “Huh?”

Melissa didn’t seem to notice; staring behind them into the backyard she ‘eeped’ excitedly and twirled away, patting her husband on the shoulder as she passed him. Greg shook his head, following her with his eyes. Isaac leaned into Lydia’s side, pressing his mouth to her ear. “Did she say grandkids?”

“I wonder if she adopted you,” Lydia muttered back, glancing at him to see his reaction. His lips turned downward, looking thoughtful. She placed her hand on his arm. “You okay with that?”

He hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Yeah…” he drew out, like he was weighing the word on his tongue. “I kinda am.” He made a face. “Would have been helpful to know before hand though. I’ll thank Scott for that later.”

Lydia beamed, suddenly feeling cheeky. “You have a mom.” she teased sweetly. The dark path their conversation had been on earlier was practically forgotten in her mind in light of some good news for her husband. It wasn’t until he grinned back at her that she realized - even if it was true - she’d just referred to him as her husband. Lydia felt her stomach drop open, smile freezing on her face when Isaac turned away to talk with Stiles’ dad.

Pressing her hand to the center of her chest, Lydia excused herself, slipping out of the kitchen without a word. She turned sharply, heading away from the noise and the people as she had her mini meltdown. Why was she doing this to herself now? All day she had been fine thinking about Ronnie and Eric as kids, why was thinking about being married to Isaac any different?

“Never actually called him your husband before,” muttered Lydia to herself, stopping in front of what seemed to be the downstairs bathroom. She stepped into the middle of the open doorway and slumped back against the frame, bracing the toes of her heels opposite her. She fiddled with the hem of her dress, trying to remember what her life was like before all this.

She had Aiden. Maybe they weren’t dating, or maybe the kinda were, but she had him. Lydia’s life was finally starting to return to normal, evening out after minefield of death and sacrifices she’d been immersed in.

“You ok?”

Lydia looked up, finding Allison standing next to her with her eyebrows furrowed. She blinked at the taller brunette, straightening up with a curt nod. “Fine. You need the, uh..?” she gestured behind her silently to the restroom. Allison shook her head, smiling.

“No, no. Isaac was...he said you looked kinda spooked.”

Lydia frowned, folding her arms under her chest. “Isaac told you that?” she had a hard time picturing it. From what she knew of Isaac’s relationship- oh. Her blood froze in her veins, suddenly picturing a whole new side to their conversation with Allison earlier. Allison had a _thing_ for Isaac, she remembered. He was her anchor, or whatever. Her hostility had finally reached new levels, and Lydia snorted internally at the thought.

“No,” said Allison, balking at the suggestion. “I heard him say something to the Sheriff in the kitchen.”

“And thought you would butt in?” Allison frowned.

“What is wrong with you?”

Lydia only raised an eyebrow, 17 year old girl hormones rearing their ugly, jealous heads. “Where’s Jackson, Allison?” she asked, tone turned up to bitch. Allison shook her head, looking away with a scoff.

“New York, like I said earlier,” she ground out. She took a moment, digging her teeth into her lower lip in a distinctly bitter looking way before she swung her head back toward Lydia. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Me?”

“Why are you bringing up Jackson?”

Because she was bitter. “I was just curious,” she answered with a shrug. “That’s all.”

“Well, you can stop being curious,” Allison snapped, eyes narrowing slightly. “The divorce was finalized two years ago, you can stop being petty. You warned me, I didn’t listen; congratulations, Lydia, you win.” Allison’s curls nearly hit her in the face as she spun around on her heels and stalked down the hall. Lydia stared at the spot she disappeared from, feeling numb.

“Crap.”


	8. Chapter 8

Lydia sighed, carding her fingers through her hair as she headed up the stairs to the bedroom she shared with Isaac. She hadn’t bothered finding Allison to apologize; she felt bad, but at the same time there wasn’t any reason for her to. Isaac had taken one look at her and suggested they leave, but the kids were having too much fun and Lydia couldn’t ruin that for them.

“Winners!” Eric’s ecstatic voice drew her attention, and the redhead paused at the top of the stairs to turn back and just in time to see Isaac piggyback in a flush faced Eric while Ronnie trailed in after them on her phone. She bit her lip, leaning against the corner of the wall to watch the three of them fondly.

“Did we have to leave so early?” asked Ronnie, glancing up from her phone with a distasteful flick of her eyes. Isaac’s head cocked at her, expression bland.

“Yes.” was all he said, hitching Eric higher up on his back. The boy giggled, dropping his cheek against his dad’s shoulder. Ronnie rolled her eyes and turned on her heel, stomping up the stairs with barely concealed irritation. She ignored Lydia as she passed her, and green eyes rolled up to the ceiling because it so figured that she was the bad guy in this.

“He had to find out eventually,” Lydia called after Veronica, glancing over her shoulder to watch the door slam shut without even being acknowledged. Lydia sighed again, folding her arms over her chest and dropping her head back. This was shaping up to be an _awesome_ day. At least she still had Isaac-

“Hey.” Lydia started, snapping her head around to find her husband standing beside her. Eric yawned from over his shoulder, wiggling a bit to get Isaac to put him down. She stared up into blue eyes, stomach sinking.

“Hey.”

Eric pillowed his face against Isaac’s side, yawning again. Lydia couldn’t help the smirk tugging at her lips, shaking her head as she took pity on him. “Bed time, kiddo.”

He groaned, loudly, making Isaac laugh. “Mom’s right, go to bed. You’ve got the water balloon fight tomorrow.”

“‘Cause we were victorious!” crowded Eric, pumping his fist into the air. His enthusiasm was diminished slightly by another huge yawn. Isaac put his hands on his son’s shoulders, turning him around in the direction of his bedroom down the hall.

“Bed. Now.”

The pair watched him walk off, grumbling, and the smirk faded from her face as Lydia felt Isaac turn back to her. Without waiting for him to speak, she spun around and closed the short distance between them and their bedroom door. She could practically _feel_ his confusion at her back, the soft sound of his feet padding along after her. The room was still a mess from earlier; pieces of clothing strewn about, the towel Isaac had used after he showered was tossed across the foot of the bed. Lydia rolled her eyes.

“Maybe we _should_ leave this mess for our future selves to clean up,” she muttered, edging around a pair of discarded boxers on her way to the bathroom. She tried to ignore him, really, but Lydia couldn’t help but glance at him just before shutting the door behind her. He looked confused.

She groaned internally, pressing her hands flat against the door and closing her eyes as her forehead touched the cool wood. She hadn’t spoken much to him since coming back to join the party after talking with Allison. She knew he was worried about her, and maybe that was her fault. She forced him to open up before either of them were ready and now she felt guilty about it. _It had seemed like the perfect opportunity._ No. She wasn’t ready for this. She wasn’t ready to be this close to him.

Lydia turned toward the sink, turning on the faucet and letting the water run for a few moments, filling up the silence in the bathroom with the hissing sound of working pipes. She bent forward, collecting water in her hands and splashed her face, clearing out the warmth of embarrassment and hopelessness.

She looked up at the soft rap of knuckles against the other side of the door, grabbing blindly for a towel to wipe her face off as she shut the water off. Reaching for the doorknob, she hesitated, fingertips grazing against the cool metal handle.

“Lydia?” she winced. “You okay?”

“F-Fine,” she stammered quickly, tossing the towel to the side and opening the door, forcing a bright smile onto her face. It dimmed a little when she saw what he was wearing. “Why are you shirtless?”

Isaac made a face at her, glancing down at himself for a split second before his head bobbed up to meet her eyes again. “It’s how I sleep.”

Lydia pointed at the sweatpants he was wearing, they looked at least ten years old and left _very little_ to the imagination. “That’s what you wear to bed?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, shifting from foot to foot. “Yeah…”

She tilted her head to the side. If it was anyone else...if this was any other situation… Her eyes narrowed a fraction, lips turning upward and with a light huff she sidestepped around him. “Fine. Enjoy the floor.”

“The-?” Isaac turned with her, following her movements with his eyes as she headed for the bureau to pick out something to sleep in. The sexy looking gray négligée was out of the question- “You want me to sleep on the floor?”

 _Oh_ but the hurt in his voice. Lydia glanced at him, skirting her eyes across his bare chest. She cleared her throat and yanked silk nightie out of the drawer, turning her head to the side to shoot him an impatient look. “I’m a kicker,” she lied with a little shrug. “Besides, when was the last time you slept next to someone platonically?”

“Scott,” Isaac answered immediately. “Couple weeks ago when we thought Jennifer was gonna try and take Melissa.”

Lydia rolled her eyes hard. “Try _years._ ”

“Whatever, why do I have to sleep on the floor? Why can’t you sleep on the floor?”

“I’m a lady.”

“You’re my wife.” All thought process came to a screeching halt in Lydia’s head. Whatever retort she had died on her tongue as her lungs expanded painfully. Isaac cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes right back at her. “ _That’s_ what’s got you so freaked out.”

“Isaac-”

“I’m not gonna try anything,” he interrupted, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “I’m not gonna like...grope you in your sleep.”

Lydia snorted involuntarily, a smile spreading over her face. Isaac making a move on her was the _farthest_ thing from her mind. She wasn’t worried about that at all; but how they would wake up in the morning? The startling realization that she had feelings for Isaac that weren’t platonic or friendly but more of the I-could-see-myself-this-happy variety. She was worried that he had feelings for Allison, and that this future they were in jeopardized any kind of relationship they could have had. She felt guilty about it too.

Isaac interrupted her train of thought with a shrug, turning away slightly with a slight narrow of his eyes in her direction. “It’s been a long day,” he started awkwardly, fingers flexing at his side. “I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

“No,” Lydia sighed, flicking her eyes to the floor. “Dont do that.”

She liked Isaac. She really did. She could see herself falling in love with him and that was scary; she didn’t want to be in love again. She kept getting hurt, whether it was because she put herself out there or not. Distancing herself from him wasn’t a good move, not now that he trusted her enough to talk about his dad with her. No more of this backtracking shit, she was going to commit to getting through this _with_ Isaac, not fighting him every step of the way. She quirked her lips up coyly, meeting his eyes. “Let me change first.”

The nightie had been a bad choice. It was a flattering shade, flattering cut, but _wow_ was it a bad idea. Lydia tugged the hem of the lingerie higher up her breasts, subsequently exposing more of her thighs. She flicked her eyes around the bathroom, looking for something that she could use to cover herself up. It’s not like she was worried about Isaac doing anything...but she’d given him shit about his sleepwear, he was bound to do the same to her.

“Damn,” she muttered, remembering the silky robe she’d used that morning. It was in the closet, which she realized would probably have been a better place to change. She’d remember that tomorrow. Straightening her spine and steeling her nerves, Lydia ignored any embarrassment she felt wearing the scrap of silk and walked out of the bathroom again.

Isaac was already in bed, one arm propped under his head as he stared up at the ceiling motionlessly. He didn’t even blink as she walked up to the edge of the bed, fingers finding the comforter and picking at it nervously. “Peter used to sleep next to me, when he was haunting me.”

Was that it? Was that her problem with this? Isaac turned his head slowly, looking at her with an open expression she couldn’t read. She hadn’t actually slept next to anyone in months. Sex was different; she screwed and screwed until she was wasted, until there was nothing left and she passed out. Sleeping next to someone, next to Isaac who she needed in order to keep going, maybe that was her problem.

Isaac’s lips parted slowly, mouth opening and closing wordlessly. His eyes darted to the bed and he nodded quickly. “I can sleep somewhere else.”

“No,” Lydia said again, just as softly. “Don’t go anywhere.”

Again Isaac nodded. “Do you wanna-?”

“Talk?” she snorted a little, lips twitching. “Not really.”

He looked up, blue eyes a little darker from the low light in the room. There was a beat of silence, then two, then- “What the hell are you wearing?”

Lydia huffed, twitching the covers open so she could climb into bed and arranging them around her so her chest wasn’t exposed. “Shut up.”

“I’m just saying-”

“See if I _ever_ wear it for you in the future.”

“Oh, now you’re using the future against me?”

“Lahey, I _swear-_ ”

“Go to sleep, Lydia,” Isaac snapped, turning over onto his side and away from her. Lydia turned her head, watching his bare back as he got comfortable. She turned to face him, frowning hard. There were scars across his shoulders, continuing up from his arms. Some of them were fine, whiplike, others were raised and jagged. She reached out carefully, fingers hovering over his back for a moment to give him time to anticipate her touch.

His skin was warm to the touch, he was practically a heater; she sussed it was the werewolf metabolism, more energy to burn. His scars were old, older than having happened in the last year or so. “Did he do these?” she asked softly. It was a guess, if she was wrong she was wrong and she’d take it back.

Isaac didn’t move, and as the silence stretched by she thought he was going to ignore her. It was a serious question though, and she wanted an answer. She needed to understand what she could talk to him about, and he needed to understand that the more he opened up to her the easier it would be for her to trust him. She brushed her fingertips down his spine a little ways and stopped at on particular scar that felt familiar. “Derek?”

“Yeah,” Isaac said immediately, twisting around to look at her, surprise written across his face. “How’d you know?”

She smiled back weakly. “Maybe...someday I’ll show you mine.”

Isaac flopped onto his back, Lydia snatching her hand away before he could lay on it. Neither of them had turned off the lights, and Lydia was a little grateful for that. It would have been unnerving to stare at Isaac in the dark.

“Your’s?”

Lydia curled her hand under her chin, smile still on her face. “Peter.”

Isaac sighed. “I hate him.”

“Me too.”

He reached out suddenly, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear before his arm retracted beneath the covers again. He adjusted his head on his pillow, eyes sweeping across her face briefly. “Can you sleep?”

“I feel like I should,” she said bitterly, looking away. “But I don’t know. What if I wake up and none of this ever happened?”

“That wouldn’t be a good thing?” Isaac asked, frowning. Lydia shrugged. Honestly, she didn’t know. A part of her wanted this to be real, to believe Scott and accept that this was her future.

“It’s only been a day,” Lydia said encouragingly, turning onto her back with a sigh. “In the morning, if we’re still here...the fourth of July party will go off without a hitch. I know how to throw a party.”

Isaac grinned, she could feel it. Leaving the night on a good note; in the morning she’d tell Isaac about what happened with Allison. She’d ask him about his feelings for the brunette, press him about things about him she should know, and maybe if they were lucky they could get some more information out of Scott.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow would be better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is such a filler chapter, and that it took so long to get out. Hopefully the next one will come easier. Thank you to everyone who's read so far and reviewed, I really appriciate all the interest in this fic.


	9. Chapter 9

The morning brought reality. Like, the reality that they’d fallen asleep with the lights still on; and the reality that this wasn’t a dream. But mostly, the reality that Lydia’s nighty was ridiculously short and had ridden up in the night, and Isaac gravitated toward human bodies in his sleep. He was curled up behind her, arm thrown across her waist and his mouth pressed to her shoulder as the first vestige of sleep began to fade away. He hummed as the warm body fitted against him shifted slightly, her hand slipping down between them in sleep. Lifting his head, Isaac blinked in confusion down at the strawberry blonde still sleeping, yawned, and returned his face against her hair, breathing in his scent on Lydia’s skin.

His heart stopped.

Faster than he thought he’d be able to, Isaac flew backwards, legs getting tangled up in the sheets. Lydia let out a small shriek as she woke up, whirling around just in time to see him fall off the bed and land on his back, legs still mostly on the bed. Mouth set open wide, Lydia crawled to the edge of the bed and peaked over, her hands clasped to her chest. “I...Isaac?”

Isaac stopped struggling the moment he hit the ground, mostly because the wind was knocked out of him, but partially because struggling just made things worse. He lifted his head, grimacing at Lydia hovering above him. “I’m okay.”

She winced at the strain in his voice, but nodded, and the two lapsed into silence. He watched Lydia pick at the hem of the bedspread, eyes turned down to stare at her hands. “We’re still here,” she said softly, breaking the silence and making him blink in surprise. He grunted, untangling himself and letting his bare feet hit the floor as he propped himself up on his elbows. He nodded, looking around them.

“Seems like it.”

Again they lapsed into silence, then Isaac snorted, running his hand through his hair. “How are those kids not up? I hit the floor pretty hard.”

Lydia pursed her lips to keep from smiling, shaking her head as she glanced toward the door. “I don’t know. Eric had a pretty long day yesterday.” It was a weak excuse, but hopefully it was right. Maybe they were just heavy sleepers. Isaac didn’t know why, _he_ definitely wasn’t; and knowing that Lydia had spent months with her psyche being infected by Peter Hale, he didn’t think she was either.

Kicking the comforter away from him, Isaac climbed to his feet, clearing his throat uncomfortably as his eyes zeroed in on the cleavage exposed by Lydia’s nightgown. He scratched at his cheek. “So...we’re still here,” he repeated, shifting on his feet. “What does that mean for us?”

Lydia chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully, and Isaac watched her carefully. He could see the situation and the possibilities flashing behind her eyes, and figured if anyone could get them out of this it would be her. But there was something she was holding back from him; he trusted her and opened up, but she was locked tight. He wanted to understand that this was just the way things had to be, but it wasn’t fair.

He wanted to be someone people trusted; after spending so much time having to hide himself and his own feelings, it was hard to do the trusting thing. He wanted to be important. Lydia didn’t need anyone to trust her, but he didn’t know what else he could do to make her see that he was really trying. He licked his lips, eyes sharpening as she inhaled to speak.

“I think we should take this one step at a time,” she said, voice firm. “We made the mistake of thinking Scott could fix everything yesterday, and obviously we have to figure this out by ourselves.” Isaac nodded, hanging onto every word like her voice was a tether. She took another deep breath and sat back on her heels, lifting her eyes up to meet his. “Can you...would you mind making breakfast again?” she sounded hopeful, like by asking him she was afraid he’d say no. He shrugged.

“Sure. What are you gonna do?” She sighed.

“See if I can find anything I already have planned for today,” her lips turned down. “Or...you know what I mean.”

Uh...sure. All this ‘tense’ shit was confusing him; they really just needed to pretend this was their life now. Turning away, Isaac headed to change out of his sleep stuff. He snuck glances at Lydia as he did, watching her frown at her phone, flip through articles of clothing. It didn’t take him long, but he was dragging out dressing himself as long as he could just to see if he could figure her out. He couldn’t, no surprise there.

“Did you want pancakes again?” he asked, combing his fingers through his hair as he turned around to look at her. His hand hovered over the bedroom door handle, waiting for an answer. Honestly he could probably get away with cereal, but the thrill the kids had yesterday about pancakes had made him feel so awesome about himself that he wanted to try it again. Lydia didn’t look up, just kept sorting through her phone.

“Uh...yeah sure, whatever you want.”

Isaac watched her for a beat, tucking her sleep knotted hair behind her ear and rubbing at the corner of her eye. Was this Lydia when she was comfortable with someone? This time yesterday she was like a rabbit ready to bolt, he doubted anyone had ever seen her without makeup before and lived to tell the tale. Not even Allison. He stared too long, and Lydia noticed, looking up with a little frown on her face.

”Isaac?”

“Uh...nothing. Going.”

He left quickly, shutting the door softly behind him. Eyes closed, he tipped his head back against the door behind him with a sigh. It was ok that things were this weird, right?

“Daddy?”

Isaac opened his eyes, starting at the soft voice in front of him. Ronnie was peaking at him from her doorway, hand curled around the frame just under her chin. Wide blue eyes blinked up at him. Isaac opened his mouth, then closed it when he couldn’t think of anything to say.

Ronnie propped her chin against her thumb, lips pursing together in a very Lydia-like way. “There was a crash, it woke me up.”

Isaac groaned internally. “I...I’m sorry, that was me.”

She nodded, eyes darting away and to the floor. “Everything okay?”

That was a loaded question. Isaac chuckled darkly, running his hand through his hair as he tried to come up with the best response. He was stuck in the future with a girl who didn’t seem to want him there, children he didn’t know how to take care of, and an Alpha who couldn’t help him. He was lost. Things were shaping up to be not okay, of the very bad variety. “Everything’s fine,” Isaac replied, shooting her a comforting wink. Ronnie smirked softly against her hand, nodding and pulling away from the door. “Don’t think we don’t have to talk about Dalton.”

She stiffened. Wow, he really knew how to talk to Martin women didn’t he. “Of _course_ we do,” she muttered, flicking her eyes at him just before she shut the door.

First Lydia, now Veronica. Great. He just kept getting doors shut on him. Isaac turned away with one last glance back at his bedroom door, heading down the stairs to the kitchen. He opened and shut the fridge a couple times, looked through the pantry, and finally wound up sitting down at the kitchen table, sitting in the silence of the house. He had one arm laid across the table top, nails picking at the imperfections in the wood as he stared around him. It was a nice house; Lydia probably decorated it, only because he wouldn’t know how. The pictures on the walls matching the perfection he seemed to associate with the redhead; other touches like their kids toys and books scattered around. Nothing really stood out that he would pertain to himself.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Isaac jumped about a foot in the air, whirling around and biting back a curse. “Jesus- _Stiles_.” he ground out the other man’s name from behind clenched teeth, eyes narrowing. Stilinski shrugged, stuffing his hands into his jeans as he walked around the table to sit across from Isaac. “How the _hell_ did you get in here?”

“I have a key,” said Stiles mockingly, tossing said key in one hand before tucking it back into his pocket. “Why are you sitting alone in the dark?”

Isaac clicked his tongue across his teeth. “I’m not in the dark.”

“Okay, _fine_ ,” Stiles rolled his eyes to the ceiling for a moment before looking back at Isaac. “Where’s your wife?”

“Upstairs,” said Isaac immediately. He wanted this conversation over as quickly as possible. Even after all this time, all the changing everyone had supposedly done, Stiles still got on his nerves a little. “What are you doing here?”

Stiles shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Thought you might be making pancakes again, yesterday wasn’t your best batch.”

Isaac’s eyes narrowed a fraction, flicking over the other man’s frame for a moment before returning to his face. “Yeah, I’ve been a little off.” a beat of silence, and Isaac tilted his head to the side. “What do you want, Stiles?”

“Allison cornered me last night,” said Stiles, his voice hard. “Lydia picked a fight with her.” Isaac frowned. That didn’t make sense, they were best friends. Why would Lydia want to get into it with Allison? “She brought up the divorce.” his eyes flicked over Isaac. “Thought you guys were over trying to run our lives for us.”

That sounded like a mistake future!Isaac and future!Lydia made, not him right now. Isaac shrugged. “She didn’t tell me anything about it,” he said truthfully. He didn’t know what divorce Stiles was talking about, he didn’t exactly care. This wasn’t his life yet, he didn’t need to give a shit about it. “If you want to talk to Lydia...I’m sure you know where our room is.”

Stiles stared at him for a long, _long_ moment. Isaac stared unblinkingly back. He had a feeling this exchange was important, that it would determine something in Stiles about who he was. He wasn’t going to mess it up, and he wasn’t going to back down. If he failed the test, fine, so Stiles knew something was up. It didn’t matter. “Was there something else you wanted, Stiles?” Isaac asked carefully, never breaking eye contact even as his skin crawled uncomfortably.

Stiles stood suddenly, a serious expression on his face as his upper lip curled back. “There is something up with you two,” he growled. “And I’m gonna figure out what’s going on.”

Isaac sighed, shaking his head as Stiles swiveled on his heel and stalked off. “It’s not what you think, Stiles.”

All he did was turn, pointing at Isaac silently in a mildly threatening sort of way before he huffed and continued on. Isaac slumped back into his chair, watching the shorter man head upstairs, presumably to talk to Lydia. A part of him wanted to warn her, maybe tackle Stiles to the ground and force him to drop things. But he didn’t get a chance.

The shriek from upstairs had Isaac shooting out of his chair, but before he could make it two steps around the table Lydia was rushing down the stairs, a hard frown on her face. She shot Isaac a look as Stiles headed down after her, gesturing wordlessly behind her.

“Get him out.”

Isaac blinked at her. “What’d he say?”

“ _Nothing_ -”

“I want him gone.”

Isaac flicked his eyes onto Stiles, lifting a shoulder. “You heard her.” Stiles made a face, one of those over exaggerated expressions he had that no one was impressed with but he continued to do as if it would get his point more across. Lydia didn’t move a muscle, facing Isaac and keeping her arms folded across her chest. Stiles looked between them hopelessly for a few moments, his jaw working like he wanted to say something to them, but instead he did as he was told. Isaac listened to the front door slam shut behind him, shaking pictures on the walls and probably waking up their kids again. His eyes narrowed on Lydia.

“What the hell was that?”

Lydia scoffed. “Don’t ask-”

“I’m asking.”

Her mouth snapped closed, arms unfolding so they hung limply by her sides. “It’s so not a big deal,” she said softly, appealing to his inner wolf. He released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, sinking back against his heels. Lydia sighed, looking away briefly to card her fingers through her hair. “He burst in asking about Allison. He wasn’t acting like Stiles.”

“He was, actually,” said Isaac with a sigh. “He’s not some puppy that follows everyone around making sarcastic comments. He could actually figure out what’s going on with us.” Lydia shot him a narrowed look.

“You think we should tell him?”

“I don’t trust him.” she raised an eyebrow, so he amended. “Not like I trust Scott,” he paused for a beat. “Or you.”

Isaac held his breath, watching Lydia stiffen, eyes locking with his as her breath hitched. He shouldn’t have said that, maybe she didn’t care afterall. Everything he’d been sensing from her, it probably had nothing to do with him. He should fix this as soon as he could, before he made it worse.

“Thank you.” Her voice was so soft that Isaac almost spoke over it; as it was, his mouth snapped shut with a click. The tension eased out of his shoulders, and likewise Lydia seemed to relax as well. She looked to the floor, lifting her fingers to her lips, hiding a smile behind them. Isaac felt a grin threaten his face, and fought to keep it down.

“Okay…” he trailed off, glancing away for just a second before looking back at Lydia. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she said back with a grin, catching her hands behind her back and looking up at him. There was an openness about her right then, and Isaac felt like if he asked her anything she might actually answer. But before he had a chance to she was swinging her head toward the kitchen. “Breakfast?”

“Oh, I...Stiles distracted me,” he fibbed. He had started to get things ready, and Stiles really had startled him. Lydia just nodded, heading into the spacious kitchen to pick at the ingredients he had taken out. She turned her head back to look at him, lips turning down slightly. “Would you teach me?”

His breath caught as he followed her, stopping a safe distance away. “To cook?” he honestly didn’t know how very well, and he chewed on his lip for a moment in contemplation. Lydia nodded. “Ah...sure.” She perked up a little, turning back to the ingredients and the mixing bowl with the kind of calculated determination he’d seen in her when they were in chemistry together. He stepped up behind her wordlessly, glancing at the side of her face as he reached around her.

He ended up with flour down the front of his shirt, and she with maple syrup smeared across her cheek, but the pancakes were better than yesterdays, and Isaac felt a sense of comradeship that he hadn’t before. Lydia was participating with him, loosening up, and he felt like this was a step in the right direction, for however long it lasted.

.

“So…”

Her eyebrow twitched, the universal one worded sigh for ‘we need to talk’ grating on her nerves and giving her a headache. And she’d been in such a good mood before Stiles had sidled up to her on the picnic table bench she was sitting at. Everyone was in the backyard; the kids pestering Derek’s inebriated state for food while he worked the grill, Scott and Allison getting an ungodly number of water balloons ready, Danny and Isaac working in compatible silence to get the fireworks for later that night ready - supervised by the elder Stilinksi.

“This morning you were a little weird.”

“Stiles, I was in my underwear,” she shot him a pointed look. “You’re lucky I didn’t tell Isaac.”

He winced, and Lydia felt smugness well up in her. She’d been right, Stiles wouldn’t step on Isaac’s feet like that on purpose - if anything her little friend was almost scared of the taller werewolf, at least to a degree. She wouldn’t want to get on Isaac’s bad side, she remembered what he was like as a newly turned werewolf; that confidence was still inside him somewhere, all it took were the right buttons pushed. “And I’m grateful, but I still need to talk to you about what happened with Allison.”

The crux of her problem. The brunette woman had barely looked at her all day, and hadn’t spoken more than two words. Lydia had really hurt her, and while she felt bad, it wasn’t her fault she didn’t know what was going on. It wasn’t her fault she was bitter and jealous; so what if she could have handled herself more gracefully, sometimes it was nice to be a mean girl.

“I didn’t mean to upset her,” she admitted. Stiles’ look darkened. “Why are you being so sensitive about this, Stiles? Are you the reason she and Jackson split?” It was supposed to have been a brush off accusation, she wasn’t prepared for the deep flush that rose up his neck. Her eyes narrowed. “I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s not like it happened when they were married,” he hissed back, but Lydia held up a hand for silence.

“You officially hold no more weight in telling me how to behave.”

“Lydia-”

“I think I’ll get a popsicle,” she interrupted smoothly, brushing off her skirt as she stood. Her heels clicked against the patio in her wake, leaving Stiles alone to gape after her. She brushed past an uncomfortable looking Allison, and didn’t bother to make eye contact; she’d apologize, but not because anyone told her to. She’d do it when she damn well felt it was deserved.

Scott was hovering near the cooler when the redhead stopped in front of it, cocking her head to the side curiously. “What are you doing?” The alpha only beamed at her, reaching down to open the cooler lid for her.

He grabbed a plastic wrapped red-white-and-blue rocket popsicle and held it out for her. “You wanted a popsicle, right?” Lydia rolled her eyes, but took it anyway.

“Eavesdropper.”

“You’ve been telling me for years to watch out for Stiles and Allison,” said Scott with a grin. “It’s why you were so against her and Jackson, I mean besides the obvious...he being a complete tool.”

Lydia made a face at that. “Jackson’s not that bad when you get to know him.”

“Explains why I still think he’s a jerk, never got to know him past all the jerkness.”

She managed to laughed once, a smirk twitching around the corners of her lips. “Yeah, well it didn’t stop Allison from marrying him. Or having a baby with him,” she shook her head. “I wish I could be not bitter about it, but I just...it hurts, you know? It still feels like Jackson and I just broke up, that pain, and now with Isaac I feel...I _feel_.” She didn’t know what hurt worse. Scott was staring at her a little strangely, an odd glint in his eyes.

“Isaac’s a good guy,” he started slowly. “He’s been through a lot, crazy bad stuff that’s left marks, but he’s a really good man.”

Lydia stared at her popsicle, watching the ice crusted around it melt slowly in the dying summer heat. He’d come a long way since Lydia had started paying attention to him, after Derek gave him the bite he’d grown confident of himself; and even if that confidence slipped when Boyd and Erica left, he’d retained the power it had given him. She liked who he was, she could even see the man he would become, and she liked that too. Growing with him was thrilling at the same time it was terrifying; she knew she had to grow up if she wanted to be with him, and she was holding back - because of Peter, because of her parents, because of Jackson. As mature as she was, she didn’t want to grow up so fast.

“What are you thinking, Lydia Lahey?”

Scott’s voice broke through her thoughts, and the redhead looked up at him with gentle eyes. Her inner turmoil was just that, and hers alone; he couldn’t touch it and make it better in that way Scott did, but he eased it. His head tilted to the side curiously, watching her carefully.

“I’m thinking I might be too old for a rocket shaped popsicle.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Hey.”

The firepit was glowing brightly, casting warm shadows over the faces of their guests as Lydia sat on the edge of the patio with a glass of lemonade hanging loosely between her fingers; she was staring off at the kids, still determined to play even in the rapidly approaching darkness. Green eyes rose up to meet Isaac as she hovered over her shoulder, playing with the wrapper of his beer bottle in apparent nervousness. Her lips quirked at him, expression warm. “Hi.”

He took that as permission to sit next to her, his arm brushing against hers lightly as he got comfortable. Their day hadn’t been nearly as uncomfortable as the one before, just longer. Stiles had kept his distance from Lydia, sticking to Scott and even avoiding Allison for the most part. It seemed like he didn’t want her judging him; not like she cared. Truthfully she didn’t, but it was easier to avoid him than try to make nice. She still wasn’t sure about herself in this time, and Stiles was smart as hell - Isaac was right, he’d figure out what was going on if they weren’t careful. But Scott, oh, he was having too much fun with this.

Lydia glanced at the Alpha over Isaac’s shoulder, eyes narrowing at the cheeky grin he had on his face. Taking a deep breath, she plastered on a bright smile for the wolf beside her. “What’s up?”

He didn’t look at her right away, or answer, just continued staring down at his drink and picking at the label glued to the bottle. He lifted a shoulder noncommittally. “What did you say to Allison yesterday?”

 _That_ question she hadn’t been expecting, and her smile faded slightly, but not enough to draw concern from anyone around them. Clearing her throat and looking away, Lydia brushed away the fall of her hair from her face; lifting her glass to her lips and wishing she’d chosen something stronger for a conversation like this. She hadn’t forgotten that Isaac had a thing for her pretty brunette friend, and she tried not to let it sting that he was asking.

“What does it matter?” she asked softly, voice muffled into a low echo as she spoke into her glass, taking a sip to bide her time. Isaac keep his eyes focused down, but she noticed his fingers tug a little harder on the paper.

“She came up to me a little while ago,” he continued. “Asked if you were ever gonna speak to her again.” Isaac lifted his head finally, looking at her knees instead of her face. “I told her she’d have to talk to you, then she gave me a funny look and walked off.” Lydia sighed hard, setting her glass down beside her and looking up at the navy blue sky. It was almost dark enough to start shooting off fireworks.

“You get the feeling we kinda meddle in their lives more than we should?” she asked absently, shoulders hunching as a breeze picked up and chilled her a little, hands wrapping around her knees when she didn’t feel Isaac’s gaze leave. “I mean, for people who time travel, you think we’d be smarter than that. I get that we love them and want them to be happy, but c’mon,” she turned her head toward him with a lift to her lips, eyebrows raised in amused disbelief. “But if it’s gonna happen, it’s gonna happen.”

Except for Peter, that is.

Isaac’s eyes met hers, the light blue nearly glowing in the almost-darkness. “Lydia.” that one word made her shrink into herself a little, a reprimand if she ever heard one. And she supposed she deserved it, skirting around the truth of the matter just because she didn’t want to admit she made a mistake. Her face smoothed out, shaking her head a little and turning forward once again.

She could feel him staring through her, the intenseness in his eyes making her skin prickle and heat all at the same time. “I was being...petty. And seventeen.” It really wasn’t fair to Allison that she’d grown up and Lydia was back to being a brat; and boys were just trouble, she’d decided that and stuck to it up until the moment she woke up in bed with Isaac. Distraction? A hell of one.

Isaac look confused. “How?”

She bit back a sigh. “Jackson and Allison are divorced, she and Stiles are a couple, and...you have a thing for her.” The last part she said softly, cutting her eyes toward him in a guilty way and watching his expression freeze. He was unmoving for a moment, and Lydia rolled her eyes, brushing it off. “Not even I’m immune to jealousy,” she muttered, digging her heels in and rising to her feet. “But I really should apologize.”

Turning, she faltered a little, eyes narrowing a fraction when she found Stiles and Allison standing together talking quietly with Scott. Isaac’s head snapped up, staring openly at her. “Wait-”

Lydia waved him quiet, just wanting to get this over and done with before she changed her mind and decided her future self would be more suited to deal with them. Squaring her shoulder, Lydia glided across the stone patio toward the trio talking, minding their own business. Scott noticed her first and smiled at her, both Stiles and Allison looked wary. Lydia spared Stiles a small, bemused smirk, and turned to Allison, reaching out to touch her sleeve. “Old habits die hard,” she said with a little shrug. The corners of the brunette girl’s lips twitched, and as a sigh fell from her lips it was like all was forgiven.

“Lunch this weekend?” Allison asked, her tone tight as she fought not to smile.

“Of course.”

Stiles was looking at her strangely, and with forgiveness in her heart Lydia turned her head to look at him too. “What.”

“So are you gonna tell us what’s up with you and Isaac?” heat at her back told her that Isaac was standing behind her, and Lydia folded her arms across her chest defensively. Scott rubbed his temple with his index finger, grimacing at his oldest friend.

“Stiles, I told you they’re fine.”

“This has been going on for a while though,” Stiles pointed out, and Lydia felt Isaac seize up behind her. Her heart pounded in her chest as his words sunk it. Was something going on that they didn’t know about? And if they hadn’t told Scott, how could they bluff their way out of it? Stiles went on. “They’ve been pulling away for weeks -- like at least two, and all of a sudden they’re acting like….like -”

“Like you’re hiding something from us,” interjected Allison softly, shooting Lydia an apologetic look. “We promised each other no more secrets, there’s nothing you can’t tell us.”

Lydia swallowed, pursing her lips when she turned her head up to look back at Isaac. He looked back, unconvinced and uncomfortable. With another sigh, Scott saved them from answering and lying. “I know what’s going on, and it’s just not the right time for everyone else to know too.” He grinned, leaning into Allison and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry too much. I’ve been told that it’s all gonna work out just fine.”

“Exactly,” said Isaac casually. “So there's nothing to worry about.”

.

Evening was approaching quickly, the annual water balloon fight having come to a close just before sundown - victory having gone to the kids. As food settled in everyone’s bellies, and the alcohol in their system chilled them out, in twos and threes everyone started to spread out across the lawn. Chris Argent and Greg Stilinski were setting up fireworks a ways away, and Isaac was sitting by himself in the middle of the grass, staring blankly up at the sky. He and Lydia hadn’t talked again, just by themselves, they were too busy with their guests. Danny and his nephew had gotten into a fight before they headed over, and Isaac learned that one of the alpha’s from back in high school had been his boyfriend up until recently, and was now trying to get back into his life.

With a sigh, Isaac dropped onto his back. His mind replayed the past two days, wondering how so much could go on in such a short amount of time. He focused on the box in the closet, a storage of memories he deemed important enough to hold onto. A photo of his family when they were whole, a stuffed animal his brother had won for him at a school carnival before he shipped out. He hadn’t looked too closely at everything in there, it had hurt and shocked him to see it in the first place. What he thought was strange and out of place though, was the hospital bracelet he had picked up; he’d gotten a look at it, and the date had been printed shortly after he would have graduated from high school. It had been too small to fit on his wrist.

Before he could think about it further a colorful swath of fabric caught his eye, his eyes refocusing on Lydia standing above him, her hair framing her face as she stared down at him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he answered, not moving to get up. She smiled lightly, sweeping to the side, and before he could say anything she was lying down beside him. Isaac turned his head to look at her, his expression open. Lydia brushed her hair away from her neck, staring up at the navy blue sky; stars were starting to appear across it, little lights shining through like holes in paper.

“Are you in love with Allison?” her question caught him off guard, and Isaac blinked at her in shock for a moment before coughing once to kickstart his breathing again. “Well don’t die over it, I was just wondering.”

“N-No,” Isaac managed, and that really was the truth, wasn’t it? He wasn’t in love with Allison. He liked her; was intimidated by her. Maybe if things were different, and he wasn’t in the life he was in now -- stuck with Lydia in a future he was starting to want more and more with each passing moment -- he would have given it a shot with the werewolf hunter. Lydia raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow, turning her head to look at him strangely.

“Are you sure?”

She said she was jealous, and yeah, Isaac had a crush on her; but wasn’t he allowed to have a crush on someone? He’d only known Lydia, _really_ known her, for a few days. Allison had tried to kill him, and he’d tried to kill her, and somehow a bond had formed between them. “I want the future I have now, Lydia,” he answered quietly.

Green eyes widened a fraction, and Isaac heard the barely audible hitch of her breath. He struggled to keep eye contact. The first, explosive boom and whiz of a firework shooting up didn’t even faze them, the hard pop and showering of light and color and smoke filling the sky lit up their faces. Isaac’s hand inched across the grass toward Lydia, her own fingers connecting gently with his. Isaac couldn’t breathe properly, their fingers glancing together, feeling each other out before finally linking together. A second firework shot off.

Lydia leaned over, her cheek pillowing against the grass. Isaac could always identify the smell of her perfume, but in that moment he was surrounded by it, the smell of her shampoo and hand lotion, the scent of her lipgloss mixed with whatever she’d had to drink earlier. He moved his head closer, the tip of his nose ghosting along hers. Her lips parted and her chin tilted up, their lips melding together in a different way than either of their kisses before.

It was a kiss that wasn’t out of desperation or deception; sweet and slow. It was just them, his top lip encased between both of hers while he held on with half lidded eyes. The hand not twined with hers came up to brush along her neck, his thumb glancing across her jaw and settling behind her ear. The kiss was broken slowly, a natural end, and neither of them moved away to get space. His eyes opened, meeting hers, while his heart continued to pound in his chest. He could feel her rapid pulse beneath his hand, synching up to his beat for beat.

He watched as her face was showered in white and red lights, the sounds around them pressing in on him as time sped up. He didn’t want to leave the moment, it felt too right. After a moment of silence spent looking at each other, Lydia took a breath.

“Now what?”

She didn’t sound bored, which was something, or disappointed, which was something else, but hopeful. Like she wanted him to do that, and maybe even to do it again. Scott had said yesterday that he was excited to find out how they had gotten together. Was this it? Did they go back to the past wanting to start a future together? He was becoming attached to this woman, and it scared him, and he was hesitant; what if they went back and everything else reset? He couldn’t let these feelings lie.

“I guess…we survive tomorrow.”

Their hands stayed connected for the rest of the night.


	11. Chapter 11

The shrill sound of an alarm going off was invading her dreams, annoying and unwelcome and pulling Lydia out of the comfortably warm embrace that was Isaac’s arm wrapped around her. He was sleeping behind her, making small noises as he slept, and with a barely audible grunt the redhead reached out to smack off the intrusive sound that was her wake-up call. She didn’t have work, so...what the hell was she doing up so early? Sure, she had two teenagers to wake up and get to school, a location generously provided to her by Scott the night before, but there was no hurry. It was 6 am, they didn’t need to be awake until at least 7, and no matter how much she reminded herself to reset that alarm it kept waking her up at this ungodly hour.

And she been _so_ comfy too.

“D’we have to get up?” came the sleepy muttered voice of Isaac, breathing against her hair as he burrowed deeper into the blankets, showing no sign of actually getting up.

“I’m going to risk life and limb and say _no._ ”

Isaac nodded sleepily, pulling her back against his chest intimately. When she’d been with Aiden there was never much cuddling involved, she hadn’t allowed it, so this intimacy with a werewolf was new to her. Their kiss last night had opened so many new doors, opportunities that she couldn’t let slip from her fingers if she wanted this to actually work. And in such a short timespan she hadn’t had the time to actually stop and overthink where this was going.

Isaac had made it clear that if they ever returned to their own timelines he was willing to continue down the path that brought them here: married with children, happy. They were a real family, something they both had lacked in their own childhoods. Lydia’s skin jumped as Isaac’s fingers brushed along her ribs, startling her. “What are you thinking about?” he asked softly, the fogginess of sleep gone from his voice. He was wide awake, and it seemed like he was more in tune with her thoughts and feelings that she could have imagined.

“Us,” she answered truthfully, after a brief moment of hesitation. “The future.” And then the unthinkable happened; her mind wandered to Peter Hale. A bitter taste appeared in her mouth just from the thought of the man, the question that had been bothering her since he had hijacked screentime during her daughter’s birth. What the hell was he still alive for, and why did they tell him he was going to die?

“You’re thinking about Peter,” said Isaac softly, a slight hesitation in his words. Lydia stiffened.

“How did you know that?” she asked, turning her head to try and look back at him. Isaac shrugged, looking at her bare shoulder instead of meeting her eyes.

“It’s hard to explain --”

“Try me.”

“Your mood shifts, your demeanor. I’m pretty good at self preservation, I learned how to sense that kind of shift with my dad so I knew when to stay clear of him. I don’t know though, with you it’s different. You tense up, your eyes kinda darken.” He sounded more confident in analyzing her behavior the more he went on, so Lydia kept quiet and listened, not caring if he was wrong, just liking that he thought he knew her so well. It comforted her. “And there’s this smell...like fear.” His arm tightened around her, like if he just held on long enough he could make it all go away.

“You can really tell all that, and know I’m thinking about Peter?” asked Lydia hesitantly. Isaac shrugged again.

“It’s what you were feeling when you talked about him the other day.” He sounded so guilty to her, like he was invading her privacy; and in fact he was, and normally that would have pissed her off and made her defensive, but how could she be when they were lying together in bed; and she had asked. Turning over, never leaving the comfort of his embrace, Lydia and Isaac laid nose to nose, the redhead curling her arms between their chests.

“What am I thinking now?” she asked softly, staring up into blue eyes. Isaac swallowed, his breath hitching after a moment, like it was hard for him to breath with her so close. But minutes ticked by and he didn’t answer. Lydia shifted, eyes fluttering as her nose brushed against his. “Isaac…?”

He opened his mouth to answer her, instead, the invading blair of her alarm clock once again rocked her out of the comfortable semi-solitude that had been created between her and Isaac. This time, before she could react, he leaned up and reached across her to turn off the offending clock, the heat of his chest radiating against her face. With a scowl at the interruption, Lydia watched Isaac take the chance not to answer, instead climbing out of bed.

"You're not seriously getting up this early, are you?" she hissed at his back, following his figure with her eyes as he rounded the room and cross unto the bathroom. He leaned the upper part of his body out of the doorway to look back at her, a bored expression on  his face.

"Shower." Was all he said, before disappearing once again into their bathroom, this time following it by closing the door with accompanied snap. Lydia fell back against the mattress with a huff.

"Great. Now what?"

.

The early morning light was not quite bright enough to reach him through the closed shades, and while the darkness pressed in on all sides, the sharp angles of his face were contrasted by the light coming from his computer monitor. Fingers tapping restlessly again the corner of the screen, he rewound the video he was watching, playing back.

_“Apparently I’m dead in the future. What a shocker. Anyway, I guess that’s why you told me, not that I get why. Didn’t you ever see Back to the Future? The crazy guy’s never supposed to know he’s gonna die, he always tries to change it. Not that I ever thought it was possible. For all I know, the two of you cooked this lie up to screw with me."_

Peter Hale leaned forward toward the camera, a sinister look on his face, his voice no higher than a malicious sounding hiss. _"This goes to you too Scott. I don't know what the hell you're planning, but know that I will always, **always** be the Alpha. Not you, Lydia, or that **pathetic** Beta will change that."_

The image paused, rewound again, and started once more.

_"Hi, Lydia -"_

Scott swallowed back a sigh, closing his eyes and turning his head away from the screen. He was terrible at keeping secrets, he didn't know how he'd been able to keep this one up for all these years. It was a surprise to him almost every day.

Thank God it it was almost over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this is so short, but thank you everroneous who's been keeping up with it. Hopefully it keeps hanging in there, I mean, we're not even at the good part yet!


	12. Chapter 12

Lydia was sitting on the counter top, phone in hand, when Isaac finally came down from his shower. His damp hair curled around his ears and left droplets of water on the soft grey collar of his t-shirt. He’d spent his shower purposefully  _ not _ thinking about Lydia and the almost-kiss they’d nearly shared in bed. His body hummed to life when his eyes landed on her, dressed for the day, her hair pulled up into a bouncy ponytail that hung between her shoulder blades. Forcing the unwanted feelings down, the werewolf braced himself and headed into the kitchen, hoping the smile on his face didn’t look tight and uncomfortable.

“Anything interesting on there?” he asked slowly, heading for the fridge. He could feel her eyes on the back of his neck as he pretended interest in the contents of their fridge. Seemed like their future selves wanted it well stocked before they screwed their past lives over. Just when Isaac was getting uncomfortable, thinking Lydia was going to start ignoring him, she shifted on the counter and answered him.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” she said, and he finally felt the heat of her gaze slid off his body. The muscles in his shoulders loosened.

He hated that he was pulling away from her, but for his own good, he had to. He was starting to have feelings for Lydia of all people, and he couldn’t let himself be hurt by them. He couldn’t let himself want this future with her. She made it clear that she didn’t trust him, and how could be with someone who didn’t see him the way he saw her?

“I’m starting to think we’re on some sort of time limit,” Lydia started, her fingernail tapping lightly on the counter top, the methodical sound of her phone as she scrolled through it filling the silence Isaac let build between them. “I took off a specific number of days from work, we don’t even  _ know _ what you do-”

“I think I might be a stay at home dad,” Isaac interrupted, unable to help himself by glancing at her over his shoulder. It was just for a second, but it was enough. She’d missed a couple buttons on her top, and the seafoam green color of her bra was peaking out where the material was lying. He looked away again quickly before he got caught staring, grabbing the orange juice from the fridge when he realized he’d been staring at the contents for way too long without moving. “It makes sense,” he continued quickly. “I mean I can’t really see myself with a day job.”

After a few moments of silence Lydia made a sound in the back of her throat. “How the hell do we afford this place then?” she asked. “I mean, my job might pay the bills, but we have two kids in private school and a mortgage.”

“Life insurance,” Isaac shrugged. One of the things he’d focused on in the shower - and  _ not _ Lydia, in that stupid short nightgown - was himself. He was still 17, he wouldn’t get the inheritance from his dad’s life insurance policy until he was 18. Not to mention the money he could have gotten for selling the cemetery, and whatever was left from what his mom willed to him after she died too. “I’ve got a lot of dead family, I’m sure that contributed. Not to mention I went to college. Washington.”

Lydia’s eyebrows furrowed, looking awfully hurt that he had all this information and was just now deciding to tell her about it. “How’d you figure?”

But Isaac stiffened, glass of orange juice halfway to his lips. “You don’t think I could have gone to college?”

Balking, she drew back, the movement thrusting her chest out in an eye catching sort of way that Isaac forced himself to look away from. “I didn’t say that,” she said defensively. “I don’t even think that. I just want to know how you knew which college you went to.  _ I _ don’t even know what college I  _ want _ to go to, let alone who would have accepted a mentally unstable super smart uber bitch, who can’t even talk to her best friend without insulting them - I can’t even talk to  _ you _ without messing everything up -”

“Lydia!” Isaac’s eyes had gotten wide as she continued ranting, showing no signs of stopping, or wanting to anytime soon. He took a step closer, than another, until he was standing in front of her with nothing but her knees and his orange juice between them. But she had stopped ranting when he said her name, green eyes burning into him, filled with sadness and uncertainty.

“Isaac, I don’t know what I’m doing,” she told him in a hushed voice. He felt more than saw her fingers twitch against her knee, like she wanted to grab him, and Isaac had to put his glass down so she wouldn’t know he was shaking so badly.

“You’re not that person yet,” he said lamely with a small shrug. “Neither am I.”

Lydia was already shaking her head though, her eyes lifting to the ceiling as the took on a distinctly glassy appearance. “You’re so much better at this than I am,” she said, still just as softly, an edge to it that made him nervous because if she cried he wouldn’t know what to do. “I want to go  _ home _ ; I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Isaac almost let it go, he almost retreated and left her sulk. Instead he put on a brave face and soldiered through, even though he was sure it was a stupid thing to do. “There’s a picture, in the living room,” he started, nodding over her shoulder. “Of me wearing a sweatshirt from Washington State. I’m in front of the administrative build, and Mrs. McCall is standing next to me. I don’t know why I went there, I just know that I did.”

Lydia nodded, still staring at the ceiling as she listened, and when he was finished she dropped her head and sniffed. Isaac stood in front of her, his arms at his sides, and almost started when she leaned forward a little more and pressed her forehead against his chest.

He stood there unmoving, unsure, until she sniffed again; he lifted an arm and draped it across her back, still feeling awkward. “I don’t want to do this anymore, either,” he agreed quietly. They were given the cheat codes to their future, a future neither of them really wanted to be a part of, it seemed. “But like you said, we just have to ride it out, right?”

Lydia pulled away from him, wiping her eyes discreetly. “Right,” she agreed. “Sorry you have to be married to a mess like me...”

Isaac lifted a shoulder, his hand falling away from her back. “It’s not so bad,” he joked lightly. “You’re pretty hot, so it could be worse.”

Her laugh was muddled by her ill controlled tears, her eyes bright green when she did turn them onto him with a little smirk. “You’re not so bad either. Tall, handsome, sweet; what more could a girl ask for?”

He didn’t have an answer, and he didn’t want to know what her’s would be. But he couldn’t tease back, not feeling like if he tried he’d just make everything worse. He was a glass half-empty kinda guy. Isaac took a step back, watching hurt flash through Lydia’s eyes just before he held his hand out for her. “So...uh, time limit?”

She nodded, accepting his hand and hoping off the counter, her hair swinging against her shoulders. “Maybe we have a certain amount of time to do something, or something’s supposed to happen in the next few days that we need to see...I don’t know.”

“So you don’t know something, big deal,” he said quickly, defending her before her mood could descend again. “It’s a start. Just like Scott was a start, and the videos.”

She stared at him strangely for a few moments, and his attempt to keep her mood up was a waste, because she spun on her heel and stalked off, leaving him staring after her with his arms open. “What did I do?” he called after her. She didn’t stop though, so after a brief internal debate whether or not he should follow her, he sucked it up - once again - and followed her across the house. “Lydia!” he hissed at her back, half-jogging to catch up to her.

She whirled on him, her ponytail smacking her in the face as she did, jabbing her finger into his chest when he dug in his heels to stop. “Stop being a tease,” she snarled at him. Isaac blinked dumbly at her.

“‘Scuse me?”

“Earlier? In bed?” she continued, like she was talking to a child. “You got under my skin. For the first time in my life here I was thinking ‘Oh my god, there’s a guy who might actually know me, and he’s not a complete  _ psychopath _ ’. But you  _ ran _ .” Lydia jabbed at him again, forcing him to take a step back. “You didn’t kiss me, you didn’t put your hands on me, you didn’t try to  _ fuck me _ .” Isaac didn’t know how Lydia could make something so crude sound like he made a terrible mistake, but he was sure she was the only one who could. Instead of stopping, Lydia laid her hand flat against his chest, leaning toward him with her lips parted and her eyes hooded. “Last night we made a real connection,” she whispered. “This morning you made me understand how I feel about Peter Hale. Why would you pretend like that didn’t happen?”

Isaac swallowed, unable to look her in the face, he looked at her hand instead and felt the slightest movement of her fingers against his chest. He didn’t want to get hurt, and this morning when he told her how he could sense her emotions he thought she would be upset. When she wasn’t, he panicked. It was a reaction he wasn’t expecting, so he did the only thing that made sense, and ran. Kissing her like he wanted to, in their bed, wasn’t supposed to become real.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to,” he answered honestly - at least partially, because he remembered how she  _ smelled _ , and it wasn’t rejection between her thighs that haunted him through his very cold shower. Lydia shook her head, her spine arching up, putting her face closer to his.

“Isaac Lahey, you don’t know a damn thing about me,” she told him gently, without heat. “If I don’t want something, you’ll know it. But if I want you to kiss me, you sure as hell better kiss me. And if I want  _ you _ ,” she whispered, her breath gentle against his lips as she tucked her hand under his chin and tilted his face up to meet hers. “Next time, don’t run away.” 

She didn’t kiss him. His eyes were lidded and he leaned forward toward her, but she didn’t kiss him. Instead she stepped back, her eyes hard once again. “Or you will regret it.”

He was regretting it already.

.

They managed, remarkably, to survive two whole days without having to say more than four words to each other apiece. More impressive, Veronica and Eric didn’t notice. Stiles didn’t notice, but that was because he only showed up once, Thursday afternoon, with a pizza and not expecting Lydia to be there. Apparently Isaac had been right about staying home, and Stiles was better friends with him than he’d anticipated. He didn’t stay long, just time enough to drop off the pizza and tell Isaac that ‘his debt was repaid’. Isaac had no idea what he was talking about.

“Probably a test,” Lydia had muttered to herself from the armchair where she was reading. Isaac ignored her, and ate his free pizza with gusto and irritation.

By the end of day Friday, they were both starting to cave; Isaac for not believing Lydia could have feelings for him, and Lydia for believing that Isaac wouldn’t be unsure of her intentions. Lydia was sitting cross legged at the foot of the bed, combing through wet hair as Isaac sat at her vanity texting Scott.

“You’re having lunch with Allison tomorrow, right?” he asked uncertainly, and Lydia almost jumped a foot in the air.

“Yes, why?” she asked curtly, a little too harsh than she’d meant to, but she hadn’t expected him to break silence first. He’d startled her. He lifted his phone wordlessly.

“Scott wants to hang out.”

“What about the Veronica?”

Eric had been so excited for the weekend, apparently he had some soccer sleepaway camp at the school and would be gone from 5 am the next morning to Sunday at 7. It was one kid they didn’t have to worry about, but their daughter had expressed some interest in spending time with them,  _ like they were a real family _ . And Lydia hated to ditch her the first chance she got.

Isaac shrugged. “She’s old enough to stay home by herself isn’t she?” he asked.

“You just want to leave her here?”

Isaac looked down at his phone, frowning. “You practically lived by yourself when you were her age, what’s the big deal?”

“I don’t want to be like my parents, that’s why.”

“Well congratulations, you’re not,” he snapped at her, his eyes cutting up from his phone to fix her with a glare. “We’re nothing like our parents. I don’t lock our son up in a freezer to punish him and you don’t treat your daughter like a pawn, great, parents of the year.”

“What is wrong with you?” Lydia hissed, pointing at him with her comb. “First time you talk to me in two days and you pick a fight?”

“And you’re the picture of maturity?” he fired back at her, lowering his phone, his eyes flashing gold. Lydia’s heart beat quickened, but he didn’t notice. “Just because I haven’t spoken to you doesn’t mean you couldn’t have apologized first.”

Lydia’s mouth dropped open. “ _ Apologized? _ ”

“Yeah, I’m not the only one who messed up.”

“You’re the only one being a brat,” she snapped, standing up and stomping toward the closet. When she got there, she spun around, glaring at the back of his head. “And for the record, I don’t like you right now. Grow up, Isaac,”

She shut the door to the closet behind her, listening to him groan in aggravation on the other side. Whatever his deal was, he better hope he got over it before she walked out, but in the meantime, she had no idea what she was doing in there. They gone through the closet a dozen and a half times looking for things, she knew it better than her closet at home. So Lydia reached for the one thing Isaac hadn’t let her get a good look at earlier, the shoe box from that first day.

She leafed through it aggressively; the kangaroo, the picture of his family, sonograms from her pregnancies, Camden’s dogtags, and high school graduation ring. Lydia’s over stimulated nerves passed over them once, then twice, and in the second go around she looked more closely at everything. How happy the Lahey family looked with Isaac’s mother still alive, the worn patches on the stuffed animal from years of use. Finally she stopped on the sonograms, some of her anger ebbing away as she stared at the fuzzy black and white photos of their children. He’d kept the first images of their kids hidden away, just for him, and it was sweet to her.

Except, they were mixed in with a past that pained him to look at. Lydia flipped over on of the pictures, looking for some significance for its being in the collection of stuff that Isaac couldn’t throw away but couldn’t look at. She was about to put all three photographs away, when she stopped. Because there were three.

The door opened suddenly, and Lydia looked up to find Isaac staring at her with wide blue eyes and flared nostrils. She started to look back down at the photo, but he started forward again, his arm coming up a little. “Don’t -”

The desperation in his voice really  _ did _ make her stop. “Why?” she asked softly, staring back at him worriedly. She watched him swallow, reaching out a little further and wrapping his hand around her wrist. Never breaking eye contact, he squeezed her wrist lightly, just enough pressure to make her open her hand and drop the photos back into the shoebox. “Why?” she asked again, her heart climbing into her throat, feeling tears start to well up in her eyes. “Isaac, why?”

He shook his head. “Please, don’t.” And that was all he would say. The unspoken ‘trust me’ hung in the air between them, and Lydia couldn’t bring herself to ask him again.

The chipper ringtone of Isaac’s phone in their bedroom drew both of their attentions, neither reacting more than just a head turn in that direction. Another round of that tune forced Isaac to pull away from her, one last lingering look into the closet, before he left her completely and answered his phone with a short and slightly emotional “Hey - Scott.”

She didn't know what to do. The intense way her looked at her made her feel like he had some animalistic pull over her; like instinct had told her it was better not to question and just obey. But it was more than that; she had decided last night she would trust him, and she was. Placing the cover of the shoe box back and putting it all back where it came from, Lydia walked out of the closet and immediately curled under the covers of their bed. She felt small and sad and she couldn't tell you why even if you'd asked. Every thought regarding the third photo made her feel sick, and she could only squeeze her eyes shut and try to block out those thoughts so they wouldn't bog her down.

Over her, pacing along the foot of the bed, she could still hear Isaac talking to Scott, every now and then listening to him pause and feeling his eyes on her before he was at it again. A “sounds fine, Scott” and a “I don't know” slipping through to her every so often, until the bed shifted and Isaac was pressed behind her. He was laying on top of the covers, but Lydia nearly sobbed as the weight of his body wrapped around her.

“I can't stand you feeling so sad,” he murmured into the crook of her neck, and she realized he could probably feel the melancholy coming off her like waves. He tightened his arm around her, the rhythm of his breathing against her skin and his heartbeat against her back somehow soothing her. “Please talk to me,” he begged her softly. Lydia's eyes fluttered closed.

“Do you have a child with someone else?” she asked softly, even as she thought how stupid it was because how could he possibly know? Even so, he shook his head. “Is-” her voice caught, her breath hitching. “Is it ours? Do we…?” He tightened his arm so much she couldn't breathe, but it was better not to breathe then continue that thought.

“You didn't see the year?” He asked, sounding wary and tired. Lydia shook her head. “Trust me. Please. It's not something we should know.”

Pressing her lips together, Lydia struggled to do just that. Trust him. Trust that Isaac knew her well enough to decide what was best for her emotionally; it wasn't about control, it wasn't about  _ her _ , it was about  **_them_ ** . If it was anyone else asking she might not have agreed. But Isaac was her partner, he was her person. “I trust you,” she whispered, reaching out of the covers to catch his hand and clasp it between hers. Lydia pressed her lips to his knuckles, and felt him kiss her shoulder back in response.

She drifted off to sleep without discussing what his plans with Scott were, without worrying about what to do with their daughter. She trusted him, and he knew it now. For the first time since they woke up at the beginning of the week, they were making progress in their relationship. It was scary, it wasn't easy, but it felt good.

Isaac laid awake for hours aft to Lydia's breathing had evened out, replaying his conversation with Scott. He had something to tell him, something important about Peter. He wouldn't leave Veronica alone in the house, just like Lydia had asked, and Scott compromised. He'd be over for lunch, and the two would talk.

_ “It's about what he did to Lydia. But it's important that you know, it's important that you know what she is. And it's important that you know what brought you here. Her name’s Kira, and she's pretty important too.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm notorious for coming back to things, this story is one of them. Keep in mind, I haven't watched Teen Wolf since I updated last, so if the characters seem not right that's because I haven't seen the show in 3 years. Also, don't pester me for updates, it'll just take longer to get one; still, I'd like to thank everyone who has come back to read this new chapter, and even though I'm not sure when the next one will be, I appreciate you taking the time to read and review it.
> 
> As for Kira, this story was plotted BEFORE she appeared on the show, when we only had the kitsune spoiler to go off of, this story will interrupt the monster lore a little differently, and I'm not sure if she will even appear. But probably.
> 
> Thanks for reading and being patient!


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